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THE COMEDY 



OF THE 



MERCHANT OF VENICE 



BY 



WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE 




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UNITED STATES, OF AMERICA. 



ENGLISH CLASSICS FOR SCHOOLS 



THE COMEDY 



OF THE 



MERCHANT OF VENICE 



BY 

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE 



NEW YORK • : • CINCINNATI • : • CHICAGO 

AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 

1893 



T7? * 8 * r 



Copyright, 1893, by 
American Book Company. 

Mer. Venice. 



printed b^ 

"OCUlUam Hvteon 

mew Jgorft, *&. S. B. 



INTRODUCTION. 



Although " The Merchant of Venice " was written and on 
the stage at an earlier date, possibly as early as 1594, it ap- 
peared for the first time in print in 1600, two editions having 
been published in that year. We know nothing of any other 
edition of the comedy till it is met with in the collection of 
Shakespeare's plays published seven years after his death, known 
as the " First Folio," or " Folio of 1623." This is the volume to 
which modern editors and commentators look mainly for the au- 
thentic text of the poet's dramas. 

The plots on which the genius of Shakespeare wrought in the 
production of his plays were rarely original with him. Both the 
story of the bond and that of the caskets, which occur in " The 
Merchant of Venice," were old and accessible to him at the 
time that play was written. They are found, one or both of 
them, in one shape or other, in the " Gesta Romanorum," com- 
piled in the latter half of the thirteenth century ; in " II Peco- 
rone," a novel by Ser Giovanni Fiorentino, composed in 1378; 
in Gower's " Confessio Amantis ; " in the ballad of " Gernutus ;" 
and in " The Jew and Ptolome," a play mentioned by Stephen 
Gosson in his "Schoole of Abuse," put forth in 1579, as a drama 
free from the grossness and immoral tendency of so many of the 
plays on the contemporary stage, against which licentiousness his 
book was directed. There is little doubt that Shakespeare had 
from this play hints for the framing of " The Merchant of Venice." 

As Jews were banished from England in 1290, and were not 
readmitted till Cromwell's time (1650), it may well be asked 
how it was that this antiquated story of the Jew and " the pound 

3 



4 INTRODUCTION. 

of flesh " should have been made the groundwork of a drama 
written for the stage, and to interest an audience of Shakespeare's 
day. It seems, however, that, notwithstanding the interdiction, 
there were Jews in England in Elizabeth's reign, and at least one 
holding a high ofhcial position. In a paper in the " Gentleman's 
Magazine " for February, 1 880, Mr. S. L. Lee tells the story of a cer- 
tain Dr. Roderigo Lopez, a Spanish Jew, who in 1559 was sworn 
physician to the Queen, and was subsequently tried, convicted, 
and in 1594 finally executed, on the charge of being bribed by 
the King of Spain to poison her. That popular prejudice against 
the race had not died out, or was easily revived, was manifested 
at his trial. Coke, the solicitor-general, laid special stress on the 
fact that Lopez was a Jew. " This perjured and murdering traitor 
and Jewish doctor," he said, " is worse than Judas himself." His 
judges spoke of him as "that vile Jew;" and "wily and covet- 
ous," " mercenary and corrupt," were the mildest of the epithets 
that assailed him. At the gallows the doctor made an endeavor 
to address the vast mob that had collected to see him die ; but his 
first utterances were interrupted with the crudest jeers, and, as 
the bolt fell, the people shouted, " He is a Jew ! " 

It may be added, that the intense excitement produced in Lon- 
don by this trial probably influenced Shakespeare to write " The 
Merchant of Venice " at this time, that it might be brought out 
at his theater, when it would be an attractive card. 

At the opening of the play, to outline it briefly, Antonio, one 
of the "merchant princes" of Venice, conversing with two of his 
friends, Salarino and Salanio, admits a feeling of sadness, which 
they had noticed, but he can assign no reason for it ; when Bas- 
sanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano enter. Bassanio, a young gentle- 
man of Venice, somewhat more extravagant in his style of living 
than his income justifies, is already indebted to Antonio, and 
having been to much expense in prosecuting his suit for the hand 
of Portia, a noble heiress, " richly left," living at Belmont near 
by, now comes to ask further aid from his friend. This Antonio 



INTRODUCTIOX. 5 

is glad to render, but having no ready money, his means being 
largely with his ventures at sea, suggests that they try what his 
credit can do to raise the needed sum. In the second scene, at 
Portia's villa in Belmont, a conversation between Portia and 
Nerissa (her waiting maid) develops the device of the caskets. 
By the terms of her father's will, Portia's choice of husband is 
constrained ; and she is to accept the man who, of three chests, 
— made of gold, silver, and lead respectively, — selects the one 
containing her picture. With the third scene we are again in 
Venice, and find Bassanio and Shylock (a rich Jew) discussing 
the terms of a loan from the latter by Bassanio, for which An- 
tonio is to be bound. While they are talking, Antonio himself 
comes in. As he is one who lends money without charging in- 
terest, and is withal a Christian holding the Jew in much disdain, 
Shylock bears him no good will. Dissembling his feelings, how- 
ever, Shylock offers to lend him three thousand ducats, with " no 
doit " of interest, but in " merry sport " to take his bond, that, if 
the sum be not repaid on a certain day, the forfeit shall be a 
pound of flesh to be taken from what part of Antonio's body it 
pleases the lender. Bassanio objects ; but Antonio, confident 
that his ships will come in long before the time of payment, 
readily agrees to the proposition ; says there is much kindness in 
the Jew ; and they part, to meet at the notary's to execute the 
bond. 

In the first scene of the second act we are at Portia's house. 
The Prince of Morocco has arrived to try his fortune with the 
caskets, but after some conversation with that lady the trial is 
delayed. Returning to Venice, there is a humorous scene of 
Launcelot Gobbo debating with himself whether or not he shall 
run away from his master, Shylock, and serve Bassanio, which 
gentleman coming in, he is accepted. Gratiano now enters ; and 
his earnest request to accompany Bassanio in a proposed visit to 
Belmont is granted, with a caution that he " allay with some cold 
drops of modesty his skipping spirit," for Gratiano is a " gay 
companion," somewhat " rude and bold of voice." " Now follow 



6 INTR OD UC TION. 

in rapid succession Jessica's preparation secretly to forsake her 
father, Shylock, in order to marry Lorenzo ; Shylock leaving his 
house to sup with Bassanio ; and the masque prepared by Loren- 
zo, Gratiano, and Salanio, under cover of which Jessica, disguised 
as a boy, shall be able to make her escape." In the seventh 
scene we are back at Belmont, where the Prince of Morocco, after 
reading and commenting on the inscriptions, chooses the golden 
casket, and, finding within it a death's-head, takes leave of Portia 
with a heavy heart. At Venice, in the eighth scene, we learn 
from Salarino and Salanio that the wrecking of one of Antonio's 
richly laden ships is reported ; and it is feared that it will go hard 
with him if the bond is forfeited to Shylock, who, we are told, is 
distracted by the elopement of his daughter, and the loss of the 
ducats and jewels she has taken with her. In the ninth scene, at 
Belmont, the Prince of Arragon makes choice of the silver cas- 
ket, and is disappointed. As he goes out, a messenger announces 
the approach of Bassanio. 

The third act opens on a street in Venice. Salanio and 
Salarino have news confirming rumors of the loss of Antonio's 
vessel ; and while deploring his misfortune, Shylock enters, still 
harping on his daughter and his ducats, and his bad match with 
Antonio, of whose ill luck he has heard. His friend Tubal, com- 
ing in, details to him, in a tantalizing way, reports of the extrav- 
agance of his daughter on the one hand, and the certain bank- 
ruptcy of Antonio on the other. In the second scene we meet 
Bassanio, Gratiano, and Portia in her house, where, after she 
intimates to Bassanio that she would gladly tell him how to 
choose were she not then forsworn, he finally opens the leaden 
casket, takes out her picture, and, turning, claims her with a lov- 
ing kiss. In the mean time Gratiano has been pressing his suit 
with the maid Nerissa, and is so far successful, that she has con- 
sented to become his wife in case Bassanio is fortunate in his 
choice of caskets. Their mutual congratulations are interrupted 
by the entrance of Lorenzo and Jessica, together with Salanio, 
who brings a letter to Bassanio from Antonio, communicating 



INTRODUCTION. 7 

the loss of his ships, the cruelty of his creditors, and the forfeiture 
of his bond ; stating that all debts were cleared between them, 
but expressing a wish that before he died he might see his friend. 
Portia, learning the amount and nature of the bond, and that 
Antonio was bound on Bassanio's account, urges him but " first 
to go with her to church and call her wife," then speed at once 
to Venice, taking with him gold to pay the petty debt twenty 
times over, and, when paid, to bring his friend with him to Bel- 
mont. Again at Venice, in the third scene, we find Shy lock, 
Salarino, and, in custody of a jailer, Antonio, who, having been 
arrested by Shylock, is petitioning for an abatement of his cred- 
itor's rigorous course. But the Jew will not listen, and upbraids 
the officer for bringing his prisoner abroad. In the fourth scene, 
at Belmont, Portia tells Lorenzo, that, in the absence of their 
husbands (Gratiano has accompanied Bassanio to Venice), Nerissa 
and herself will abide in seclusion at a monastery in the neigh- 
borhood, and that she would leave the care and management 
of her household in his charge till her return. Portia then dis- 
patches a messenger to her cousin, Dr. Bellario, a famous lawyer 
of Padua, with instructions to the servant to bring any notes and 
garments he should receive from the doctor to a named station 
on the road from Belmont to Venice ; and, having disclosed to 
Nerissa somewhat of her design to take part in Antonio's trial, 
they enter a coach and " haste away." 

The fourth act brings us to the culmination of the play, — the 
trial scene at Venice, Shylock suing for the enforcement of the 
penalty of Antonio's forfeited bond. The Jew, the merchant, 
Bassanio, Gratiano, and others are in the court. The Duke, pre- 
siding, calls Shylock before him, and hopes he will have com- 
miseration on the state of the royal merchant, and not only loose 
the forfeiture of the bond, but forgive a portion of the principal 
of the debt. But Shylock is unyielding. Bassanio offers him 
twice the amount of the bond, which he refuses, demanding the 
penalty. Nerissa, habited as a clerk, comes in, bearing a mes- 
sage from Bellario, who has been sent for to determine the case, 



8 I NT ROD UC TION. 

in which he states his inability to attend, but strongly recom- 
mends a young lawyer with whom he has been in consultation, 
who is thoroughly informed of the matter in controversy, and 
who would appear in his stead. Portia now enters in the guise 
of a doctor of laws, and replying to a question of the Duke, that 
she is well advised of the cause before the court, the trial pro- 
ceeds. Plaintiff and defendant are pointed out to her. She 
asks Antonio if he confesses the bond, which he does. She then 
says the Jew must be merciful, and makes an urgent appeal in 
that behalf, admitting that in strict justice, sentence must be given 
against the merchant. Shylock, deaf to all prayers, is inexor- 
able in his demand for justice and his bond. Judgment is about 
to be pronounced in his favor, when Portia, reexamining the 
deed, announces that it gives him "no jot of blood;" tells him 
to take his pound of flesh, but if in the cutting it he sheds one 
drop of Christian blood, or if it weighs more or less than a just 
pound, he dies, and his lands and goods are confiscate to the 
state. Confounded by this decision, the Jew is now willing to 
receive the amount of his overdue debt, but this, having been 
already tendered and refused in open court, it is held, he cannot 
claim, and can have only the forfeiture with its risks. Foiled in 
the cruel purpose of his suit, and half crazed by the loss of his 
money, Shylock is leaving the room in disgust, when he is stayed 
by Portia, by whom he is told, that under Venetian law, if it is 
proved that an alien attempts the life of any citizen, 

"The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive 
Shall seize one half his goods; the other half 
Comes to the privy coffer of the state ; 
And the offender's life lies in the mercy 
Of the Duke only, 'gainst all other voice ; " 

that he stands in this predicament before the court ; and that he 
has no other hope than the clemency of the Duke, who pardons 
him his life, decrees one half his wealth to Antonio, the other 
half to come to the state. Antonio intercedes with the court 



INTRODUCTION. 9 

to quit the fine for one half the goods, so Shylock will let him 
(Antonio) have 

" The other half in use, to render it, 
Upon his death, unto the gentleman 
That lately stole his daughter; 
Two things provided more, — that for this favor 
He presently become a Christian ; 
The other, that he do record a gift, 
Here in the court, of* all he dies possess'd, 
Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter." 

More dead than alive, Shylock says he is content, has permission 
to leave the court, and asks that the deed be sent to him for sig- 
nature. Bassanio now tenders Portia the three thousand ducats 
due to the Jew, which she does not accept, but, being pressed to 
receive something as a remembrance, would have a ring from his 
finger, which Bassanio, greatly embarrassed, refuses, protesting 
that it was placed there by his wife under a vow to " neither sell 
nor give nor lose it : " but overcome by a sense of shame, after 
Portia leaves the court, he sends it to her by Gratiano, from 
whom Nerissa begs the ring he had from her. 

The fifth act is a delightful evening scene in the garden at 
Belmont, where the music, and the honeymoon talk of Lorenzo 
and Jessica, are broken off by the* return of Portia and Nerissa, 
followed immediately by the arrival of Bassanio, Antonio, and 
Gratiano. Nerissa soon makes it convenient to discover that 
Gratiano's ring is missing, and is sure that some woman had it ; 
he insisting that he gave it the judge's clerk, " a little scrubbed 
boy no higher than herself." The quarrel is noticed by Portia, 
who sides with Nerissa, and is certain her lord would not part 
with the ring she had given him for all the wealth of the world. 
Bassanio, confused, confesses ; and after much protestation and 
entreaty on his part, and assumed indignation on hers, Portia pro- 
duces the ring, explains everything, delivers Lorenzo the deed of 
gift from Shylock, tells Antonio she has true news that three of his 
ships were safely in, and the play closes with all happy at Belmont. 



io INTRODUCTION. 

Of Shylock, Thomas Campbell remarks (as quoted in Fur- 
ness's Variorem Shakespeare), " In the picture of the Jew there is 
not the tragic grandeur of Richard III., but there is a similar 
force of mind, and the same subtlety of intellect, though it is less 
selfish. In point of courage, I would give the palm to Shylock, 
for he w r as an ill-used man and the champion of an oppressed race : 
nor is he a hypocrite, like Richard. In fact, Shakespeare, whilst 
he lends himself to the prejudices of Christians against Jews, 
draws so philosophical a picture of the energetic Jewish charac- 
ter, that he traces the blame of its faults to the iniquity of the 
Christian world. Shylock's arguments are more logical than 
those of his opponents, and the latter overcome him only by a 
legal quibble. But he is a usurer, and lives on the interest of 
lent moneys ; and what but Christian persecution forced him to 
live by these means ? But he is also inhuman and revengeful. 
Why ? Because they called him dog, and spat upon his Jewish 
gaberdine. They voided their rheum upon him, and he in return 
wished to void his revenge upon them. All this is natural, and 
Shylock has nothing unnatural about him." Hazlitt (Characters 
of Shakespeare's Plays) says, " Shylock is a good hater, a man 
no less ' sinned against than sinning.' If he carries his revenge 
too far, yet he has strong grounds for the ' lodged hate ' he 
bears Antonio, which he explains with equal force of eloquence 
and reason. . . . There is a strong, deep, and quick sense of 
justice mixed up with the gall and bitterness of his resentment. 
The constant apprehension of being burnt alive, plundered, 
banished, reviled, and trampled on, might be supposed to sour 
the most forbearing nature, and to take something from that 
1 milk of human kindness ' with which his persecutors contem- 
plated his indignities. ... In all his answers and retorts upon 
his adversaries, he has the best, not only of the argument, but 
of the question, reasoning on their own principles and practice. 
They are so far from allowing of any measure' of equal deal- 
ing, of common justice or humanity between themselves and 
the Jew, that even when they come to ask a favor of him, 



INTRODUCTION. i I 

and Shylock reminds them that ' on such a day they spit upon 
him, another spurn'd him, another called him dog, and for these 
courtesies request he'll lend them so much moneys,' Antonio, his 
old enemy, instead of any acknowledgment of the shrewdness 
and justice of his remonstrance, . . . threatens a repetition of the 
same treatment. . . . After this, the appeal to the Jew's mercy, 
as if there were any common principle of right and wrong be- 
tween them, is the rankest hypocrisy or the blindest prejudice." 
Hazlitt is not so happy in his delineation of Portia, of whom 
Mrs. Jameson {Characteristics of Women) writes, "Portia is en- 
dued with her own share of those delightful qualities which 
Shakespeare has lavished on many of his female characters, but, 
besides the dignity and tenderness which should distinguish her 
sex generally, she is individualized by qualities peculiar to herself, 
by her high mental powers, her enthusiasm of temperament, her 
decision of purpose, and her buoyancy of spirit. These are in- 
nate. She has other distinguishing qualities more external, and 
which are the result of circumstances in which she is placed. 
Thus she is the heiress of a princely name and countless wealth ; 
a train of obedient pleasures wait round her ; and from infancy 
she has breathed an atmosphere redolent of perfume and blan- 
dishment. Accordingly there is a commanding grace, a high-bred, 
airy elegance, a spirit of magnificence, in all that she does and 
says, as one to whom splendor had been familiar from her very 
birth. . . . She is full of penetrative wisdom, and genuine ten- 
derness, and lively wit ; but as she has never known want, or 
grief, or fear, or disappointment, her wisdom is without a touch 
of the somber or the sad ; her affections are all mixed up with 
faith, hope, and joy; and her wit has not a particle of malevo- 
lence or causticity. . . . The sudden plan which she forms for 
the release of her husband's friend, her disguise, and her deport- 
ment as the young and learned doctor, would appear forced and 
improbable in any other woman, but in Portia are the simple and 
natural result of her character. The quickness with which she 
perceives the legal advantage which may be taken of the cir- 



12 INTRODUCTION. 

cumstances ; the journey to consult her learned cousin the doctor, 
Bellario ; the spirit of adventure with which she engages in the 
masquerading ; and the decision, firmness, and intelligence with 
which she executes her generous purpose, — are all in perfect keep- 
ing, and nothing appears forced : nothing is introduced merely for 
theatrical effect. But all the finest parts of Portia's character are 
brought to bear in the trial scene. ... Her intellectual powers, 
her elevated sense of religion, her high honorable principles, 
her best feelings as a woman, are all displayed. ... A prominent 
feature in Portia's character is that confiding buoyant spirit which 
mingles with all her thoughts and affections. . . . Portia's 
strength of intellect takes a natural tinge from the flush and 
bloom of her young and prosperous existence, and from her fer- 
vid imagination. In the casket scene she fears, indeed, the issue 
of the trial on which more than her life is hazarded ; but while 
she trembles, her hope is stronger than her fear. While Bassanio 
is contemplating the caskets, she suffers herself to dwell for one 
moment on the possibility of disappointment and misery. . . . 
Then immediately follows that revolution of feeling so beautifully 
characteristic of the hopeful, trusting, mounting spirit of this 
noble creature. ... In the last act, Shylock and his machinations 
being dismissed from our thoughts, and the rest of the dramatis 
fiersonce assembled together at Belmont, all our interest and all 
our attention are riveted on Portia, and the conclusion leaves the 
most delightful impression on the fancy. The playful equivoque 
of the rings, the sportive trick she puts on her husband, and her 
thorough enjoyment of the jest, . . . show how little she was 
displeased by the sacrifice of the gift, and are all consistent with 
her bright and buoyant spirit." 

Rev. John Hunter {Introductory Remarks) portrays Antonio 
as " a good man, — a man whom we love for his high integrity, 
his disinterested liberality, his devoted friendship ; but his rash- 
ness in signing the bond suggested to the dramatist the propriety 
of characterizing him as deficient in worldly prudence ; and, too 
easy and unwary in his dealings with mankind, ... he thought 



IX TROD UCTION. 1 3 

lightly of the condition stipulated in the bond ; he was imprudent 
in allowing himself to forget, or in failing to exert himself that he 
might be prepared for the day of payment ; he was incautious in 
venturing the whole of his wealth in argosies upon the ocean. 
That he was a rich merchant, we may suppose to have been owing 
more to patrimonial inheritance than to his own mercantile saga- 
city and success." 

" Bassanio," says W. W. Lloyd {Critical Essay) , "has lived 
like a prodigal, run in debt with his friends, and now coolly pro- 
poses to his chief creditor to make a serious addition to his debt 
on the speculation that it will give him a chance to pay all by 
that very precarious as well as undignified resort of making up to 
an heiress. How is it that in reading the play we never withdraw 
our sympathy from the hero of transactions that affect us in com- 
mon life with the unpleasant associations of dissipation, impru- 
dence, impudence, and meanness? The reason, I apprehend, is 
partly because we are reading a romance, and we accept the com- 
patibility of whatever phenomena the poet chooses to group in the 
moral as in the material world. Portia has faith that the lottery 
of the caskets will give her infallibly the husband who deserves 
her, and we are not disposed to check agreeable sympathy with 
the generous liberality, in mind and purse, of the Merchant of 
Venice, by any mistrust, shabby it would seem to us, of the desert 
of his friends or the cooperation of natural chances with his free 
intentions. Character gives confidence ; truth is bondsman for 
troth. We believe Bassanio on the same ground that Antonio 
does ; we approve of the consent of Antonio on the same grounds 
that made Bassanio think it not wrong to ask it. . . . Soundness 
at heart in a recipient makes imprudence prudent ; and our faith 
is made happy when Bassanio, who has nothing either to give or 
hazard, chooses the casket of least promising exterior. . . . Even 
in setting forth his project to Antonio, the leading tone of his 
description makes her wealth but one accessory of her attractions ; 
and, as a lover should, he passes on with more fervor to observe, 
1 And she is fair ; ' and yet again to the crowning praise which 



14 INTRODUCTION. 

no lover of Portia could overlook and be worthy, ' and fairer than 
that word of wondrous virtues.' Hence we confide most abso- 
lutely in the ingenuousness of Bassanio ; and if he appears to 
engage his friend somewhat inconsiderately to a bond, ... we 
are prepared to ascribe this to the eagerness of a lover who has 
such cause to love as encouragement from Portia." 

Although a subordinate character, none in the play has a more 
distinct individuality than Gratiano. He is always Gratiano ; 
and, notwithstanding his rattling volubility, not a few of his 
utterances have become proverbial, and are familiar in our mouths 
as household words. He is thus sketched by Charles Cowden 
Clarke (Shakespeare Characters) : " Gratiano is one of those use- 
ful men in society who will keep up the ball of mirth and good 
humor simply by his own mercurial temperament and agreeable 
rattle. ... If a picnic were proposed, he would be the man for 
the commissariat department ; and the wines shall be unimpeach- 
able in quantity as well as quality ; the ladies shall lack no squire 
of dames, and the men no stimulus to keep their gallantry from 
rusting ; and what is better than all, if a friend be in adversity, 
Gratiano will champion him with good words and deeds, if not 
with the most sagacious counsel. He would, no doubt, talk a 
man off his legs, and therefore Shakespeare has brought him as 
a relief against the two grave men, Antonio and Bassanio. . . . 
Bassanio says of Gratiano, ' that he speaks an infinite deal of 
nothing ; ' ' that his reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two 
bushels of chaff : you shall seek all day ere you find them, and 
when you have them they are not worth the search.' The best 
of all this is, that Bassanio himself advances no claim to be the 
censor of his lively companion, for, in comparison with him, he 
is dull in capacity ; and the very observation just quoted follows 
one of the most agreeable and sensible speeches in the play, made 
by the ' infinite-deal-of-nothing ' Gratiano." 

Jessica " is a very faithful picture of a love-inclined young 
woman, betraying the oriental warmth of her race, together with 
its craftiness. But she is not to be taken as a true sample of a 



INTRODUCTION. 1 5 

Jewish daughter, for among no people are the ties of domestic life 
held more sacred than among the Hebrews." " When at Bel- 
mont, she speaks of her father as of a person in whose company 
she once happened to be ; the first words, ' when I was with 
him,' are painfully unfeeling to those inclined to sympathize 
with a father whom she has robbed ; but there were none such 
in the company, because the man was a Jew, and she knew that 
opinion was in her favor." 

Nerissa displays no special characteristics. As she is Portia's 
confidential companion as well as waiting woman, we may sup- 
pose her to be of good family, and there is no incongruity in the 
marriage of Gratiano and herself. 

" The Merchant of Venice " is one of the most perfect of Shake- 
speare's dramas, and, with the possible exception of " The Tem- 
pest," it has always been the most popular. 

Incidental to a critical notice of the Shakespearian literature 
of the day, "The Edinburgh Review," July, 1840, has these re- 
marks on this play : " In ' The Merchant of Venice,' the poetical 
elevation is obtained by a migration into a foreign and southern 
region ; the tideless bosom of the Adriatic reflects the Venetian 
palaces, the pine trees and fountains and terraces of Portia's villa, 
and the deep-blue sky of the Italian clime. But everywhere — 
in the garden of the Doge's hall, on the ' campo ' of the Rialto, 
or beneath the penthouse that projects from the Jew's den — we 
feel that we are still in the world, among men jostling one another 
on the crowded highway of life, and hurrying towards the com- 
mon goal. Here action is in its appropriate place ; and here, 
therefore, adventure and surprise are accumulated upon each 
other. The drama invades the domain of the romantic novel, 
but, unlike most usurpers, ameliorates the region into which it 
has intruded. During four acts of the play we are hurried from 
one crisis to another. Each of the two leading plots is in itself 
improbable, and even revolting ; but the harshness of each bal- 
ances and conceals that of the other. Poetical fancy, likewise, 



1 6 INTRODUCTION. 

wedded to the charm of love, disguises the story of the caskets ; 
while that of the pound of flesh is ennobled at once by variety 
and unsurpassed truth of character, by the most vigorous strokes 
of passion, and by a temperate judgment, which is the most ad- 
mirable feature of the piece. At length the perplexities and dan- 
gers are overcome, love and hatred have both received their 
reward, and most poets would have dropped the curtain on their 
characters ; but Shakespeare saw that something was still want- 
ing. If the play had closed there, it would have deserved to be 
called a ' tragi-comedy ' in a reproachful sense of the term : it 
would have been a play in which it was impossible by reflection, 
or by the surer test of feeling, to determine which of the two op- 
posed aspects of life was intended to be exhibited as the prominent 
one. The main action of the piece in both its branches has 
touched the very frontier of that region within which it was 
designed to move. The scenes at Belmont had been prevented 
from becoming tragic by mefe accident. The judgment scene is 
really and sublimely tragic in everything except the artifice which 
gives the turn to its catastrophe. The feeling which genuine com- 
edy should leave on the mind, the perception of those relations of 
man to higher powers which make his very weakness the fountain 
of happiness and reconciliation, is assuredly not that which rests 
on the mind as we retire slowly from the piazza of St. Mark, still 
agitated by the perils of the trial, and perhaps not less moved by 
the blow which has smitten down into broken-hearted abasement 
Shylock's whole soul, his intellectual strength, his bitterly preg- 
nant humor, his Hebrew devotion, and his hatred for those who 
have oppressed and insulted his nation and his name. 

" The fifth act . . . gradually and gently relieves the heart 
from its oppression. A sportive love trick introduced purposely 
in the preceding scene furnishes its materials ; the tragic ideas 
removed to a distance serve but to heighten the new impression 
by contrast, and thus justify for themselves the place they hold ; 
and the drama closes in music by moonlight amidst the placid 
gladness of rescued innocence and united love." 



THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 



PERSONS OF THE PLAY. 



Duke of Venice. 

Prince of Morocco, > suitors to 

Prince of Arragon, ) Portia. 

Antonio, the Merchant of Venice. 

BASSANIO, his friend. 

Salanio, 

Salarin^, 

Gratiano, ) 

Lorenzo, in love with Jessica 

Shylock, a rich Jew. 

Tubal, a Jew, his friend. 

Launcelot Gobbo, a clown. 



) friends to Antonio and 
Bass an io. 



Old Gobbo, father to Launcelot. 
Sale rio, a messenger. 
Leonardo, servant to Bassanio. 
Balthasar, ) 



servants to Portia. 



Stephano, 
Portia, a rich heiress. 
Nerissa, her waiting maid. 
Jessica, daughter to Shylock. 

Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the 
Court of Justice, Gaoler, Servants, 
and other Attendants. 



Scene: Partly at Venice; and partly at Belmont, the seat of Portia, on the 

Continent. 



ACT I. 



Scene I. Venice. A Street. 



Enter Antonio, -Salarino, and Salanio. 

Antonio. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad 
It wearies me ; you say it wearies you ; 
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, 
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, 
I am to learn ; 

And such a want-wiusadness makes of me, 
That I have much ado to know myself. 
2 17 



1 8 SHAKESPEARE. [act i. 

Salarino. Your mind is tossing on the ocean ; 
There, where your argosies 1 with portly sail, 
Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood, 
Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea, 2 
Do overpeer the petty traffickers, 
That curtsy to them, do them reverence, 
As they fly by them with their woven wings. 

Salanio. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, 
The better part of my affections would 
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still 
Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind, 
Peering in maps for ports and piers and roads ; 
And every object that might make me fear 
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt 
Would make me sad. 

Salari?w. My wind cooling my broth 

Would blow me to an ague, when I thought 
What harm a wind too great at sea might do. 
I should not see the sandy hourglass 3 run, 
But I should think of shallows and of flats, 
And see my wealthy Andrew 4 dock'd in sand, 
Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs 
To kiss her burial. Should I go to church 
And see the holy edifice of stone, 

1 Argosies were large ships, generally mercantile vessels, though ships of 
war were sometimes so called. The derivation of the name is uncertain; 
possibly from "Argo," the mythical ship which carried Jason and his com- 
panions to Colchis in search of the Golden Fleece. 

2 " Pageants of the sea," a comparison of Antonio's vessels to the huge 
images of towers, castles, ships, giants, etc., paraded in the street shows or 
pageants of London. 

3 Watches and clocks were novelties in England, and hourglasses were 
still in use, at the close of the sixteenth century. 

4 Andrea Doria was a famous admiral of Genoa, who died in 1560. It is 
not unlikely that his name, in Shakespeare's time, was in common use to 
designate Italian ships of the largest size and best class. 



scene i.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 19 

And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, 
Which touching but my gentle vessel's side, 
Would scatter all her spices on the stream, 
Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks, 
And, in a word, but even now worth this, 
And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought 
To think on this, and shall I lack the thought 
That such a thing bechanc'd would make me sad ? 
But tell not me ; I know, Antonio 
Is sad to think upon his merchandise. 

Antonio. Believe me, no : I thank my fortune for it, 
My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, 
Nor to one place ; nor is my whole estate 
Upon the fortune of this present year : 
Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad. 

Salar'mo. Why, then you are in love. 

Anto?iio. Fie, fie ! 

Salar'mo. Not in love neither? Then let us say you are sad, 
Because you are not merry : and 'twere as easy 
For you to laugh and leap and say you are merry, 
Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus, 1 
Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time : 
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes 
And laugh like parrots at a bagpiper, 
And other of such vinegar aspect 2 
That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, 
Though Nestor 3 swear the jest be laughable. 

1 This two-faced god of the Romans presided over gates and avenues. 
On some images he is shown with one sad and one laughing countenance. 

2 This word is always accented on the latter syllable in Shakespeare's 
verse. 

3 A Grecian hero renowned for his wisdom, prudence, and great age. 



20 SHAKESPEARE. [act i. 

Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano. 

Salanio. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, 
Gratiano and Lorenzo. Fare ye well : 
We leave you now with better company. 

Salarino. I would have staid till I had made you merry, 
If worthier friends had not prevented me. 

Antonio. Your worth is very dear in my regard. 
I take it, your own business calls on you 
And you embrace the occasion to depart. 

Salarino. Good morrow, my good lords. 

Bassanio. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh ? say, 
when ? 
You grow exceeding strange : must it be so ? 

Salarino. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours. 

\Exeunt Salarino and Salanio. 

Lore?izo. My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio, 
We two will leave you : but at dinner time, 
I pray you, have in mind where we must meet. 

Bassanio. I will not fail you. 

Gratiano. You look not well, Signior Antonio ; 
You have too much respect upon 2 the world : 
They lose it that do buy it with much care : 
Believe me, you are marvelously chang'd. 

Anto?iio. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano ; 
A stage where every man must play a part, 
And mine a sad one. 

Gratiano. Let me play the fool : 

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come, 
And let my liver rather heat with wine 
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. 
Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, 
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? 

1 " Respect upon," i.e., regard for. 



scene I.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 21 

Sleep when he wakes and creep into the jaundice 

By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio — 

I love thee, and it is my love that speaks — 

There are a sort of men whose visages 

Do cream and mantle like a standing pond, 

And do a willful stillness entertain, 

With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion 

Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit, 1 

As who should say, " I am Sir Oracle, 

And when I ope my lips let no dog bark ! " 

my Antonio, I do know of these 
That therefore only are reputed wise 

For saying nothing, w T hen, I am very sure, 

If they should speak, would almost damn those ears 

Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools. 

I'll tell thee more of this another time : 

But fish not, with this melancholy bait, 

For this fool gudgeon, this opinion. 

Come, good Lorenzo. Fare ye well awhile : 

I'll end my exhortation after dinner. 

Lore?izo. Well, we will leave you then till dinner time : 

1 must be one of these same dumb wise men, 
For Gratiano never lets me speak. 

Gratiano. Well, keep me company but two years moe, 2 
Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue. 

Antonio. Farewell : I'll grow a talker for this gear. 

Gratiano. Thanks, i' faith, for silence is only commendable 
In a neat's tongue 3 dri'd and a maid not vendible. 

[Exeunt Gratia?w and Lorenzo. 

Antonio. Is that anything now ? 

1 " With purpose," etc., i.e., designing thereby to acquire a reputation 
for wisdom, gravity, and profound thought. 

2 An old form of " more." 

3 A neat's tongue is the tongue of an ox, bull, or cow, — what we call a 
" beef's tongue." 



22 SHAKESPEARE. [act i. 

Bassanio. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more 
than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of 
wheat hid in two bushels of chaff : you shall seek all day ere 
you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the 
search. 

Antonio. Well, tell me now what lady is the same 
To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, 
That you to-day promis'd to tell me of ? 

Bassanio. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, 
How much I have disabled mine estate, 
By something showing a more swelling port 1 
Than my faint means would grant continuance : 
Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd 
From such a noble rate ; but my chief care 
Is to come fairly off from the great debts 
Wherein my time something too prodigal 
Hath left me gag'd. To you, Antonio, 
I owe the most, in money and in love, 
And from your love I have a warranty 
To unburden all my plots and purposes 
How to get clear of all the debts I owe. 

Antonio. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it ; 
And if it stand, as you yourself still do, 
Within the eye of honor, be assur'd, 
My purse, my person, my extremest means, 
Lie all unlock'd to your occasions. 

Bassanio. In my school days, when I had lost one shaft, 
I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight 
The selfsame way with more advised watch, 
To find the other forth, and by adventuring both 
I oft found both : I urge this childhood proof, 
Because what follows is pure innocence. 

1 " Something showing," etc., i.e., somewhat more extravagant style of 
living. 



scene I.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 23 

I owe you much, and, like a willful youth, 
That which I owe is lost ; but if you please 
To shoot another arrow that self 1 way 
Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt, 
As I will watch the aim, or to find both 
Or bring your latter hazard back again 
And thankfully rest debtor for the first. 

Antonio. You know me well, and herein spend but time 
To wind about my love with circumstance ; 2 
And out of doubt you do me now more wrong 
In making question of my uttermost 
Than if you had made waste of all I have : 
Then do but say to me what I should do 
That in your knowledge may by me be done, 
And I am prest unto it : therefore, speak. 

Bassanio. In Belmont is a lady richly left ; 
And she is fair, and, fairer than that word, 
Of wondrous virtues : sometimes from her eyes 
I did receive fair speechless messages : 
Her name is Portia, nothing undervalued 
To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia : 
Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth, 
For the four winds blow in from every coast 
Renowned suitors, and her sunny locks 
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece ; 
Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos' 3 strond, 4 
And many Jasons come in quest of her. 
O my Antonio, had I but the means 

1 Same. 2 Round-about talking. 

" In the grove of Ares (Mars) at JEa., afterwards called Colchis or Col- 
chos, was suspended the Golden Fleece, guarded by a dragon. In quest of 
this, Jason, accompanied by several of the great heroes of the age, sailed in 
the 'Argo,' and aided by Medea, the daughter of the King of Colchos, suc- 
ceeded in carrying it off." 

4 Strand. 



24 SHAKESPEARE. [act i. 

To hold a rival place with one of them, 
I have a mind presages me such thrift, 
That I should questionless be fortunate! 

Antonio. Thou know'st that all my fortunes are at sea ; 
Neither have I money nor commodity 
To raise a present sum : therefore go forth ; 
Try what my credit can in Venice do : 
That shall be rack'd, even to the uttermost, 
To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia. 
Go, presently inquire, and so will I, 
Where money is, and I no question make 
To have it of my trust or for my sake. [Exeunt. 



Scene II. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. 

Enter Portia and Nerissa. 

Portia. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of this 
great world. 

Nerissa. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were 
in the same abundance as your good fortunes are : and yet, for 
aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit with too much as they 
that starve with nothing. It is no mean 1 happiness therefore, to 
be seated in the mean : superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, 
but competency lives longer. 

Portia. Good sentences and well pronounc'd. 

Nerissa. They would be better, if well followed. 

Portia. If to do were as easy as to know what were good to 
do, chapels had been churches and poor men's cottages princes' 
palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions : 
I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be 
one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may 
devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold 
decree : such a hare is madness the youth, to skip o'er the 

l Small. 



scene II.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 25 

meshes of good counsel the cripple. But this reasoning is not in 
the fashion to choose me a husband. O me, the word " choose! " 
I may neither choose whom I would nor refuse whom I dislike ; 
so is the will of a living daughter curb'd by the will of a dead 
father. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one nor 
refuse none ? 

Nerissa. Your father was ever virtuous ; and holy men at 
their death have good inspirations : therefore the lottery, that he 
hath devised in these three chests of gold, silver, and lead, where- 
of who chooses his meaning chooses you, will, no doubt, never 
be chosen by any rightly but one who shall rightly love. But 
what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these 
princely suitors that are already come ? 

Portia. I pray thee, overname them ; and as thou namest 
them, I will describe them ; and, according to my description, 
level at my affection. 

Nerissa. First, there is the Neapolitan prince. 

Portia. Ay, that's a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but talk 
of his horse ; and he makes it a great appropriation to his own 
good parts, that he can shoe him himself. 

Nerissa. Then there is the County Palatine. 1 

Portia. He doth nothing but frown, as who would say, " If you 
will not have me, choose : " he hears merry tales and smiles not : 
I fear he will prove the weeping philosopher 2 when he grows old, 
being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had rather 
be married to a death's-head with a bone in his mouth than to 
either of these. God defend me from these two ! 



1 "Count" and "County" are used indifferently by Shakespeare. A 
Count Palatine, or Count of the Palace, was a title that came to be applied 
" to governors of provinces who had full regal powers. These were princi- 
pally border provinces, such as Lancaster, Chester, and Durham in England." 

2 "Weeping philosopher" refers to Heraclitus, a celebrated Greek, who 
lived five hundred years before the Christian era. He was known as the 
mourner or obscure philosopher from his unconquerable custom of weeping 
at the follies and vicissitudes of human affairs. 



26 SHAKESPEARE. [act i. 

Ncrissa. How say you by the French lord, Monsieur le Bon? 

Portia. God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. 
In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker: but, he ! why, he 
hath a horse better than the Neapolitan's, a better bad habit of 
frowning than the Count Palatine ; he is every man in no man ; 
if a throstle * sing, he falls straight a capering: he will fence with 
his own shadow : if I should marry him, I should marry twenty 
husbands. If he would despise me, I would forgive him, for if 
he love me to madness, I shall never requite him. 

Nerissa. What say you, then, to Falconbridge, the young 
baron of England ? 

Portia. You know I say nothing to him, for he understands 
not me, nor I him : he hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian, 
and you will come into the court and swear that I have a poor 
pennyworth in the English. He is a proper man's picture, but, 
alas, who can converse with a dumb show ? How oddly he is 
suited! I think he bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose 
in France, his bonnet in Germany, and his behavior everywhere. 

Nerissa. What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbor ? 

Portia. That he hath a neighborly charity in him, for he bor- 
rowed a box of the ear of the Englishman and swore he would 
pay him again when he was able : I think the Frenchman became 
his surety and seal'd under for another. 2 

Nerissa. How like you the young German, the Duke of Sax- 
ony's nephew ? 

Portia. Very vilely in the morning, when he is sober, and 
most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk : when he is best, 
he is a little worse than a man, and when he is worst, he is little 
better than a beast : an 3 the worst fall that ever fell, I hope I 
shall make shift to go without him. 

Nerissa. If he should offer to choose, and choose the right 
casket, you should refuse to perform your father's will, if you 
should refuse to accept him. 

1 An old diminutive of " thrush." 

2 " The principal was said to ' seal to ' a bond ; his surety ' sealed under.' " 

3 Tf. 



scene ii.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 27 

Portia. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee, set a 
deep glass of rhenish wine on the contrary casket, for if the devil 
be within and that temptation without, I know he will choose it. 
I will do anything, Nerissa, ere I'll be married to a sponge. 

Nerissa. You need not fear, lady, the having any of these 
lords : they have acquainted me with their determinations ; 
which is, indeed, to return to their home and to trouble you with 
no more suit, unless you may be won by some other sort than 
your father's imposition depending on the caskets. 

Portia. If I live to be as old as Sibylla, 1 I will die as chaste as 
Diana, 2 unless I be obtained by the manner of my father's will. 
I am glad this parcel of wooers are so reasonable, for there is 
not one among them but I dote on his very absence, and I pray 
God grant them a fair departure. 

Nerissa. Do you not remember, lady, in your father's time, a 
Venetian, a scholar and a soldier, that came hither in company 
of the Marquis of Montferrat ? 

Portia. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio ; as I think, he was so call'd. 

Nerissa. True, madam : he, of all the men that ever my fool- 
ish eyes look'd upon, was the best deserving a fair lady. 

Portia. I remember him well, and I remember him worthy of 
thy praise. 

Enter a Serving-man. 

How now ! what news ? 

Servant. The four strangers seek for you, madam, to take 
their leave : and there is a forerunner come from a fifth, the 
Prince of Morocco, who brings word the prince his master will 
be here to-night. 

1 The Sibylla were certain prophetic women who flourished in different 
parts of the world. Portia refers to the Sibyl of Cuma in Italy, to whom 
Apollo granted her demand to live as many years as she had grains of sand 
in her hand. 

2 The goddess of hunting, and also, according to some mycologists, per- 
sonifying Luna or the moon. She was the daughter of Jupiter, and obtained 
from her father permission to live in perpetual celibacy. 



2 8 SHAKESPEARE. [act i. 

Portia. If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good a heart 
as I can bid the other four farewell, I should be glad of his ap- 
proach : if he have the condition 1 of a saint and the complexion 
of a devil, I had rather he should shrive me than wive me. 
Come, Nerissa. Sirrah, go before. 

Whiles we shut the gates upon one wooer, another knocks at the 
door. [Exeunt. 

Scene III. Venice. A Public Place. 

Enter Bassanio and Shylock. 

Shy lock. Three thousand ducats ; well. 

Bassanio. Ay, sir, for three months. 

Shylock. For three months ; well. 

Bassanio. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be 
bound. 

Shylock. Antonio shall become bound ; well. 

Bassanio. May you stead me ? will you pleasure me ? shall I 
know your answer ? 

Shylock. Three thousand ducats for three months and Anto- 
nio bound. 

Bassanio. Your answer to that. 

Shylock. Antonio is a good man. 

Bassanio. Have you heard any imputation to the contrary ? 

Shylock. Oh, no, no, no, no : my meaning in saying he is a 
good man is to have you understand me that he is sufficient. 
Yet his means are in supposition : he hath an argosy bound to 
Tripolis, another to the Indies ; I understand, moreover, upon 
the Rialto, 2 he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England, and 
other ventures he hath, squand'red 3 abroad. But ships are but 

1 That is, qualities. Frequently used in this sense by Shakespeare. 

2 Rialto was the Venetian island where merchants met for business trans- 
actions. The name is derived from riva alta (" a high bank"), the island 
being the highest of the group on which the city is built. 

3 Scattered ; not used in a sense implying waste. 



scene hi.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 29 

boards, sailors but men : there be land rats and water rats, land 
thieves and water thieves, I mean pirates, and then there is the 
peril of waters, winds and rocks. The man is, notwithstanding, 
sufficient. Three thousand ducats ; I think I may take his bond. 

Bassanio. Be assured you may. 

Shy lock. I will be assured I may ; and, that I may be assured, 
I will bethink me. May I speak with Antonio? 

Bassanio. If it please you to dine with us. 

Shy lock. Yes, to smell pork ; to eat of the habitation which 
your prophet the Nazarite conjured the devil into. 1 I will buy 
with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so fol- 
lowing, but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with 
you. What news on the Rialto? Who is he comes here ? 

Enter Antonio. 

Bassanio. This is Signior Antonio. 

Shy lock. [Aside] How like a fawning publican 2 he looks ! 
I hate him for he is a Christian, 
But more for that in low simplicity 
He lends out money gratis and brings down 
The rate of usance 3 here with us in Venice. 
If I can catch him once upon the hip, 4 
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. 
He hates our sacred nation, and he rails, 
Even there where merchants most do congregate, 
On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, 
Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe, 
If I forgive him! 

Bassanio. Shylock, do you hear? 

Shylock. I am debating of my present store, 

1 See Matt. viii. 28-32. 

2 Under Roman rule, publicans were the taxgatherers to whom the col- 
lection of taxes in the provinces was farmed or rented by the Imperial Govern- 
ment. 3 Interest ; usury. 

4 " Catch him," etc., i.e., take him at disadvantage. It is a phrase from 
wrestling. 



30 SHAKESPEARE. [act i. 

And, by the near guess of my memory, 

I cannot instantly raise up the gross 

Of full three thousand ducats. What of that ? 

Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe, 

Will furnish me. But soft ! how many months 

Do you desire ? [ To Antonio\ Rest you fair, good signior ; 

Your worship was the last man in our mouths. 

Antonio. Shylock, although I neither lend nor borrow 
By taking nor by giving of excess, 
Yet, to supply the ripe wants of my friend, 
I'll break a custom. Is he yet possess'd 1 
How much ye would ? 

Shylock. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats. 

Antonio. And for three months. 

Shylock. I had forgot ; three months ; you told me so. 
Well, then, your bond ; and let me see ; but hear you ; 
Methought you said you neither lend nor borrow 
Upon advantage. 

Antofiio. I do never use it. 2 

Shylock. When Jacob graz'd his uncle Laban's sheep — 
This Jacob from our holy Abram was, 
As his wise mother wrought in his behalf, 
The third possessor ; ay, he was the third — 

Antonio. And what of him ? did he take interest ? 

Shylock. No, not take interest, not, as you would say, 
Directly interest : mark what Jacob did. 
When Laban and himself were compromis'd 3 
That all the eanlings 4 which were streak'd and pied 5 
Should fall as Jacob's hire, 
The skillful shepherd peel'd me certain wands 
And stuck them up before the fulsome ewes, 
Who then conceiving did in eaning time 



1 Informed. 2 " I do never use it," i.e., it is not my use or custom. 

3 Agreed. 4 Newly born lambs. 5 Party-colored. 



scene in.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 31 

Fall party-color'd lambs, and those were Jacob's. 
This was a way to thrive, and he was blest : 
And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not. 1 

Antonio. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob serv'd for; 
A thing not in his power to bring to pass, 
But sway'd and fashion'd by the hand of heaven. 
Was this inserted to make interest good ? 
Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams ? 

Shy lock. I cannot tell ; I make it breed as fast : 
But note me, signior. 

Antonio. Mark you this, Bassanio, 

The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. 
An evil soul producing holy witness 
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek, 
A goodly apple rotten at the heart : 
Oh, what a goodly outside falsehood hath ! 

Shy lock. Three thousand ducats ; 'tis a good round sum. 
Three months from twelve ; then, let me see ; the rate — 

Antonio. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding 2 to you ? 

Shylock. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft 
In the Rialto you have rated me 
About my moneys and my usances : 
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug, 
For suff'rance is the badge of all our tribe. 
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, 
And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, 
And all for use of that which is mine own. 
Well then, it now appears you need my help : 
Go to, 3 then ; you come to me, and you say, 
" Shylock, we would have moneys : " you say so ; 

1 See Gen. xxx. 27-43. 

2 This word in the sense of beholden (" obliged") is frequently met with 
in Shakespeare and other Elizabethan writers. 

3 " Go to," a phrase of reproof here, is used in various senses by old 
authors as an exclamation of impatience, encouragement, expostulation, etc. 



32 SHAKESPEARE. [act i. 

You, that did void your rheum upon my beard 
And foot l me as you spurn a stranger cur 
Over your threshold : moneys is your suit. 
What should I say to you ? Should I not say, 
" Hath a dog money ? is it possible 
A cur can lend three thousand ducats ? " Or 
Shall I bend low and in a bondman's key, 
With bated breath and whisp'ring humbleness, 
Say this ; 

" Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last ; 
You spurn'd me such a day ; another time 
You call'd me dog ; and for these courtesies 
I'll lend you thus much moneys " ? 

Antonio. I am as like to call thee so again, 
To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too. 
If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not 
As to thy friends ; for when did friendship take 
A breed for barren metal of his friend ? 
But lend it rather to thine enemy, 
Who, if he break, thou mayst with better face 
Exact the penalty. 

Shylock. Why, look you, how you storm ! 

I would be friends with you and have your love, 
Forget the shames that you have stain'd me with, 
Supply your present wants and take no doit 2 
Of usance for my moneys, and you'll not hear me : 
This is kind 3 I offer. 

Bassanio. This were kindness. 

Shylock. This kindness will I show. 

Go with me to a notary, seal me there 
Your single bond ; and, in a merry sport, 

1 Kick. 

2 " No doit," i.e., " not a cent," as we would express it. A doit was a 
German coin of trifling value. 

3 Kindness. 



scene in.] THE MERCHANT OE VENICE. 33 

If you repay me not on such a day, 

In such a place, such sum or sums as are 

Express'd in the condition, let the forfeit 

Be nominated for an equal pound 

Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken 

In what part of your body pleaseth me. 

Antonio. Content, i' faith : I'll seal to such a bond 
And say there is much kindness in the Jew. 

Bassanio. You shall not seal to such a bond for me : 
I'll rather dwell 1 in my necessity. 

Antonio. Why, fear not, man ; I will not forfeit it : 
Within these two months, that's a month before 
This bond expires, I do expect return 
Of thrice three times the value of this bond. 

Shy lock. O father Abram, what these Christians are, 
Whose own hard dealings teaches them 2 suspect 
The thoughts of others ! Pray you, tell me this ; 
If he should break his day, what should I gain 
By the exaction of the forfeiture ? 
A pound of man's flesh taken from a man 
Is not so estimable, profitable neither, 
As flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I say, 
To buy his favor, I extend this friendship : 
If he will take it, so ; if not, adieu ; 
And, for my love, I pray you wrong me not. 

Antonio. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond. 

Shy lock. Then meet me forthwith at the notary's ; 
Give him direction for this merry bond, 
And I will go and purse the ducats straight, 
See to my house, left in the fearful 3 guard 
Of an unthrifty knave, and presently 
I will be with you. 

1 Continue. 

2 " Teaches them," i.e., " teach them to," as would nowadays be written. 

3 Doubtful. 



34 SHAKESPEARE. [act ii. 

Antonio. Hie thee, gentle Jew. [Exit Shylock. 

The Hebrew will turn Christian : he grows kind. 

Bassanio. I like not fair terms and a villain's mind. 

Antonio. Come on : in this there can be no dismay ; 
My ships come home a month before the day. [Exeunt. 



ACT II. 

Scene I. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. 

Flourish of comets. Enter the Prince of Morocco and his train 3 
Portia, Nerissa, and others attending. 

Morocco. Mislike me not for my complexion, 
The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun, 
To whom I am a neighbor and near bred. 
Bring me the fairest creature northward born, 
Where Phoebus' 1 fire scarce thaws the icicles, 
And let us make incision for your love, 
To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine. 
I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine 
Hath fear'd 2 the valiant : by my love, I swear 
The best-regarded virgins of our clime 
Have lov'd it too : I would not change this hue, 
Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen. 

Portia. In terms of choice I am not solely led 
By nice direction of a maiden's eyes : 
Besides, the lottery of my destiny 
Bars me the right of voluntary choosing: 
But if my father had not scanted me 
And hedg'd me by his wit, to yield myself 
His wife who wins me by that means I told you, 
Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair 

1 Phoebus was one of the names given to the sun in ancient mythology. 

2 " Fear'd the valiant," i.e., caused the valiant to fear. 



scene i.] THE MERCHANT OE VENICE, 35 

As any comer I have look'd on yet 
For my affection. 

Morocco. Even for that I thank you : 

Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets 
To try my fortune. By this scimiter 
That slew the Sophy l and a Persian prince 
That won three fields of Sultan Solyman, 2 
I would outstare the sternest eyes that look, 
Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth, 
Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear, 
Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey, 
To win thee, lady. But, alas the while! 
If Hercules 3 and Lichas play at dice 
Which is the better man, the greater throw 
May turn by fortune from the weaker hand : 
So is Alcides beaten by his page ; 
And so may I, blind fortune leading me, 
Miss that which one unworthier may attain, 
And die with grieving. 

Portia. You must take your chance, 

And either not attempt to choose at all 
Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong 
Never to speak to lady afterward 
In way of marriage : therefore be advis'd. 4 

Morocco. Nor will not. Come bring me unto my chance. 

Portia. First, forward to the temple : after dinner 
Your hazard shall be made. 

1 An old word signifying " wise man." It was formerly applied to one 
skillful in natural magic, and afterwards became the common name of the 
Emperor of Persia. 

2 Sultan Solyman, the Magnificent, was defeated by the Persians in 

1535- 

3 Hercules was a celebrated hero of antiquity, who, after his death, was 
ranked among the gods. He is sometimes called "Alcides," being a descend- 
ant of Alceus. Lichas was a servant of Hercules. 

4 "Be advis'd," i.e., consider well. 



36 SHAKESPEARE. [act u. 

Morocco. Good fortune then !. 

To make me blest or cursed'st among men. 

[ Cornets, and exeunt. 

Scene II. Venice. A Street. 

Enter Launcelot. 

Lanncelot. Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from 
this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow and tempts me 
saying to me, " Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot," or 
" good Gobbo," or " good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take 
the start, run away." My conscience says, " No ; take heed, 
honest Launcelot ; take heed, honest Gobbo," or, as aforesaid, 
" honest Launcelot Gobbo ; do not run ; scorn running with thy 
heels." Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack : " Via ! " 
says the fiend ; " away ! " says the fiend ; " for the heavens, 
rouse up a brave mind," says the fiend, "and run." Well, my 
conscience, hanging about the neck of my heart, says very wisely 
to me, " My honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man's 
son," or rather an honest woman's son ; well, my conscience 
says, " Launcelot, budge not." " Budge," says the fiend. " Budge 
not," says my conscience. "Conscience." say I, "you counsel 
well ; " " Fiend," say I, " you counsel well : " to be rul'd by my 
conscience, I should stay with the Jew my master, who, God 
bless the mark, is a kind of devil ; and, to run away from the 
Jew, I should be rul'd by the fiend, who, saving your reverence, 
is the devil himself. Certainly the Jew is the very devil incar- 
nal ; l and, in my conscience, my conscience is but a kind of hard 
conscience, to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew. The 
fiend gives the more friendly counsel : I will run, fiend ; my heels 
are at your command ; I will run. 

1 Launcelot means " incarnate." His diction, as well as that of his father 
Gobbo, abounds with barbarisms equally ridiculous. 



scene II.] THE MERCHANT OE VENICE. 37 

Enter Old Gob bo ivith a basket. 

Gobbo. Master young man, you, I pray you, which is the way 
to Master Jew's ? 

Laimcelot. [Aside] O heavens, this is my true-begotten father! 
who, being more than sand-blind, 1 high-gravel blind, knows me 
not : I will try confusions with him. 

Gobbo. Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the 
way to Master Jew's ? 

Laimcelot. Turn up on your right hand at the next turning, 
but, at the next turning of all, on your left ; marry, 2 at the very 
next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the 
Jew's house. 

Gobbo. By God's sondes, 3 'twill be a hard way to hit. Can 
you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with him, dwell 
with him or no ? 

Launcelot. Talk you of young Master Launcelot ? [Aside] 
Mark me now ; now will I raise the waters. Talk you of young 
Master Launcelot ? 

Gobbo. No master, sir, but a poor man's son : his father, 
though I say it, is an honest exceeding poor man, and, God be 
thanked, well to live. 

Launcelot. Well, let his father be what a' will, we talk of 
young Master Launcelot. 

Gobbo. Your worship's friend and Launcelot, sir. 

Lamicelot. But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you, 
talk you of young Master Launcelot ? 

Gobbo. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership. 

Launcelot: Ergo, Master Launcelot. Talk not of Master 
Launcelot, father ; for the young gentleman, according to Fates 
and Destinies and such odd sayings, the Sisters Three 4 and such 

1 Partially blind ; purblind. 

2 A contraction of an old imprecation, " By the Virgin Mary." 

3 Possibly Gobbo means " saints." 

4 In Greek mythology the Three Sisters, or Fates, — Clotho Lachesis, and 
Atropos, — spun the thread of each human being's life. The first wound the 



38 SHAKESPEARE. [act ii. 

branches of learning, is indeed deceased, or, as you would say in 
plain terms, gone to heaven. 

Gobbo. Marry, God forbid ! the boy was the very staff of my 
age, my very prop. 

Launcelot. Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, a staff or a 
prop ? Do you know me, father ? 

Gobbo. Alack the day, I know you not, young gentleman : but, 
I pray you, tell me, is my boy, God rest his soul, alive or dead ? 

Launcelot. Do you not know me, father ? 

Gobbo. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind ; I know you not. 

Launcelot. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail 
of the knowing me : it is a wise father that knows his own child. 
Well, old man, I will tell you news of your son : give me your 
blessing : truth will come to light ; murder cannot be hid long ; 
a man's son may, but at the length truth will out. 

Gobbo. Pray you, sir, stand up : I am sure you are not 
Launcelot, my boy. 

Launcelot. Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, but 
give me your blessing : I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your 
son that is, your child that shall be. 

Gobbo. I cannot think you are my son. 

Launcelot. I know not what I shall think of that : but I am 
Launcelot, the Jew's man, and I am sure Margery your wife is 
my mother. 

Gobbo. Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be sworn, if thou 
be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. Lord wor- 
ship'd might he be ! what a beard hast thou got! thou hast got 
more hair on thy chin than Dobbin my fill horse 1 has on his tail. 

Launcelot. It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail grows 
backward : I am sure he had more hair of his tail than I have 
of my face when I last saw him. 

flax on the distaff ready for the second to spin, while the third cut the thread 
upon the termination of the individual's career. 

1 " Fill horse," i.e., the shaft horse, the horse that is placed between the 
thills or shafts of the vehicle. 



scene II.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 39 

Gobbo. Lord, how art thou chang'd ! How dost thou and 
thy master agree ? I have brought him a present. How 'gree 
you now ? 

Launcelot. Well, well : but, for mine own part, as I have set 
up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have run some 
ground. My master's a very Jew: give him a present! give 
him a halter : I am famish'd in his service ; you may tell every 
finger I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come : 
give me your present to one Master Bassanio, who, indeed, gives 
rare new liveries : if I serve not him, I will run as far as God 
has any ground. O rare fortune ! here comes the man : to him, 
father; for I am a Jew, if I serve the Jew any longer. 

Enter Bassanio, with Leonardo and other followers. 

Bassanio. You may do so ; but let it be so hasted that supper 
be ready at the farthest by five of the clock. See these letters 
delivered ; put the liveries to making, and desire Gratiano to 
come anon to my lodging. [Exit a Servant. 

Launcelot. To him, father. 

Gobbo. God bless your worship ! 

Bassanio. Gramercy, would'st thou aught with me ? 

Gobbo. Here's my son, sir, a poor boy, — 

Launcelot. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man ; that 
would, sir, as my father shall specify — 

Gobbo. He hath a great infection, 1 sir, as one would say, to 
serve, — 

Launcelot. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, 
and have a desire, as my father shall specify — 

Gobbo. His master* and he, saving your worship's reverence, 
are scarce cater-cousins 2 — 

Launcelot. To be brief, the very truth is that the Jew, having 

1 Affection ; that is, desire. 

2 " Scarce cater-cousins " means here " not on good terms." Cater-cou- 
sins are cousins by courtesy, friendship cousins. 



40 SHAKESPEARE. [act ii. 

done me wrong, doth cause me, as my father, being, I hope, an 
old man, shall frutify 1 unto you — 

Gobbo. I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon 
your worship, and my suit is — 

Launcelot. In very brief, the suit is impertinent 2 to myself, as 
your worship shall know by this honest old man ; and, though I 
say it, though old man, yet poor man, my father. 

Bassanio. One speak for both. What would you ? 

Launcelot. Serve you, sir. 

Gobbo. That is the very defect 3 of the matter, sir. 

Bassanio. I know thee well ; thou hast obtain'd thy suit : 
Shylock thy master spoke with me this day, 
And hath preferr'd thee, if it be preferment 
To leave a rich Jew's service, to become 
The follower of so poor a gentleman. 

Laujicelot. The old proverb is very well parted between my 
master Shylock and you, sir : you have the grace of God, and 
he hath enough. 4 

Bassanio. Thou speak'st it well. Go, father, with thy son. 
Take leave of thy old master and inquire 
My lodging out. Give him a livery 
More guarded 5 than his fellows' : see it done. 

Launcelot. Father, in. I cannot get a service, no ; I have 
ne'er a tongue in my head. Well, if any man in Italy have a 
fairer table 6 which doth offer to swear upon a book, I shall have 
good fortune. Go to, here's a simple line of life ; here's a small 
trifle of wives: alas, fifteen wives is nothing! eleven widows and 
nine maids is a simple coming-in for one man : and then to 'scape 

p 
1 Specify. 2 Pertinent. 3 Effect. 

4 The Scotch form of the old proverb is, ' ' The grace of God is gear 
enough." 

5 " More guarded," i.e., more gaudily trimmed. 

6 "Fairer table:" Launcelot is well up in palmistry, and examines his 
hand to account for his present good fortune, and to learn what he is to look 
for in the future. 



scene II.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 4 1 

drowning thrice, and to be in peril of my life with the edge of 
a feather bed ; here are simple scapes. Well, if Fortune be a 
woman, she's a good wench for this gear. Father, come; I'll 
take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye. 

[Exeunt Lanncelot and Old Gobbo. 

Bassanio. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this : 
These things being bought and orderly bestow'd, 
Return in haste, for I do feast to-night 
My best-esteem' d acquaintance : hie thee, go. 

Leonardo. My best endeavors shall be done herein. 

Enter Gratiano. 

Gratiano. Where is your master ? 

Leona?'do. Yonder, sir, he walks. [Exit. 

Gratiano. Signior Bassanio ! 

Bassanio. Gratiano ! 

Gratiano. I have a suit to you. 

Bassanio. You have obtain' d it. 

Gratiano. You must not deny me : I must go with you to 
Belmont. 

Bassanio. Why, then you must. But hear thee, Gratiano ; 
Thou art too wild, too rude and bold of voice ; 
Parts that become thee happily enough 
And in such eyes as ours appear not faults ; 
But where thou art not known, why, there they show 
Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain 
To allay with some cold drops of modesty 
Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behavior 
I be misconstrued in the place I go to 
And lose my hopes. 

Gratiano. Signior Bassanio, hear me : 

If I do not put on a sober habit, 
Talk with respect and swear but now and then, 
Wear prayer books in my pocket, look demurely, 
Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes 



42 SHAKESPEARE. [act ii. 

Thus with my hat, 1 and sigh and say " amen," 

Use all the observance of civility, 

Like one well studied in a sad ostent 2 

To please his grandam, never trust me more. 

Bassanio. Well, we shall see your bearing. 

Gratiano. Nay, but I bar to-night : you shall not gauge me 
By what we do to-night. 

Bassanio. No, that were pity : 

I would entreat you rather to put on 
Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends 
That purpose merriment. But fare you well : 
I have some business. 

Gratiano. And I must to Lorenzo and the rest : 
But we will visit you at supper time. [Exauit. 

Scene III. The Same. A Room in Shylock's House. 

Enter Jessica and Launcelot. 

Jessica. I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so : 
Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil, 
Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness. 
But fare thee well, there is a ducat for thee : 
And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see 
Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest : 
Give him this letter ; do it secretly ; 
And so farewell : I would not have my father 
See me talk with thee. 

Launcelot. Adieu! tears exhibit 3 my tongue. Most beautiful 
pagan, most sweet Jew! But, adieu: these foolish drops do 
something drown my manly spirit : adieu. 

1 " Hood mine eyes," etc. It was the custom formerly for all persons 
above the rank of attendants to keep on their hats at the dinner-table, re- 
moving them only while grace was said. 

2 " Sad ostent," i.e., show of serious behavior. 

3 Prohibit ; that is, silence. 



scene IV. J THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 43 

Jessica. Farewell, good Launcelot. [Exit Launcelot. 

Alack, what heinous sin is it in me 
To be asham'd to be my father's child ! 
But though I am a daughter to his blood, 
I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo, 
If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife, 
Become a Christian and thy loving wife. [Exit. 

Scene IV. The Same. A Street. 

Enter GRATIANO, Lorenzo, Salarino, and Salanio. 

Lorenzo. Nay, we will slink away in supper time, 
Disguise us at my lodging and return,. 
All in an hour. 

Gratiano. We have not made good preparation. 

Salarino. We have not spoke us yet of x torchbearers. 

Salanio. Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order'd, 2 
And better in my mind not undertook. 

Lorenzo. 'Tis now but four o'clock : we have two hours 
To furnish us. 

Enter Launcelot with a letter. 

Friend Launcelot, what's the news ? 

Launcelot. An it shall please you to break up 3 this, it shall 
seem to signify. 

Lo7-enzo. I know the hand : in faith, 'tis a fair hand ; 
And whiter than the paper it writ on 
Is the fair hand that writ. 

Gratiano. Love news, in faith. 

Launcelot. By your leave, sir. 

Lorenzo. Whither goest thou ? 

Launcelot. Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew to sup 
to-night with my new master the Christian. 

1 " Spoke us yet of," i.e., bespoken; arranged for. 

2 " Quaintly order'd," i.e., neatly or gracefully arranged. 

3 " Break up," i.e., break open, referring to the letter. 



44 SHAKESPEARE. [act ii. 

Lorenzo. Hold here, take this: tell gentle Jessica I will not 
fail her ; speak it privately. 

Go, gentlemen, [Exit Laancelot. 

Will you prepare you for this masque to-night? 
I am provided of * a torchbearer. 

Salarino. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight. 

Salanio. And so will I. 

Lorenzo. Meet me and Gratiano 

At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence. 

Salarino. Tis good we do so. [Exeunt Salarino and Salanio. 

Gratiano. Was not that letter from fair Jessica? 

Lorenzo. I must needs tell thee all. She hath directed 
How I shall take her from her father's house, 
W T hat gold and jewels she is furnish'd with, 
What page's suit she hath in readiness. 
If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven, 
It will be for his gentle daughter's sake : 
And never dare misfortune cross her foot, 
Unless she do it under this excuse, 
That she is issue to a faithless Jew. 
Come, go with me ; peruse this as thou goest : 
Fair Jessica shall be my torchbearer. [Exeunt. 

Scene V. The Same. Before Shylock's House. 

Enter Shylock and Launcelot. 

Shy lock. Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge, 
The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio : — 
What, Jessica! — thou shalt not gormandize, 
As thou hast done with me : — What, Jessica ! — 
And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out ; — 
Why, Jessica, I say ! 

Launcelot. Why, Jessica ! 

i With. 



scene v.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 45 

Shylock. Who bids thee call ? I do not bid thee call. 
Launcelot. Your worship was wont to tell me that I could do 
nothing without bidding. 

Enter Jessica. 

Jessica. Call you ? what is your will ? 

Shylock. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica : 
There are my keys. But wherefore should I go ? 
I am not bid for love ; they flatter me : 
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon 
The prodigal Christian. Jessica, my girl, 
Look to my house. I am right loath to go : 
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest, 
For I did dream of money bags to-night. 1 

Launcelot. I beseech you, sir, go : my young master doth 
expect your reproach. 2 

Shylock. So do I his. 

Launcelot. And they have conspired together, I will not say 
you shall see a masque ; but if you do, then it was not for noth- 
ing that my nose fell a-bleeding on Black Monday 3 last at six 
o'clock i' the morning, falling out that year on Ash Wednesday 
was four year, in the afternoon. 

Shylock. What, are there masques ? Hear you me, Jessica : 
Lock up my doors ; and when you hear the drum 
And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife, 

1 Last night. 

2 Launcelot means " approach," of course, but Shylock prefers to take 
him literally. 

3 " Black Monday." Furness (Variorem Shakespeare), quoting Peck 
(Memoirs, etc.), who cites Stow, has this on the origin of the phrase used 
by Launcelot, and which was of course familiar in Shakespeare's time: 
" Black Monday is a movable day. It is Easter Monday, and was so called 
on this occasion: ' In the 34th [year of] Edwarde III. (1360) the 14th of 
April & the morrow after Easter-day K. Edwarde with his hoast lay before 
the cittie of Paris ; which day was full darke of mist & haile, & so bitter cold 
that men died on their horses backs with the cold ; wherefore unto this day 
it hath beene called the Blacke Monday.' " 



46 SHAKESPEARE. [act ii. 

Clamber not you up to the casements then, 
Nor thrust your head into the public street 
To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'cl faces, 
But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements : 
Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter 
My sober house. By Jacob's staff, 1 I swear, 
I have no mind of feasting forth to-night : 
But I will go. Go you before me, sirrah ; 
Say I will come. 

Launcelot. I will go before, sir. Mistress, look out at window, 

for all this ; 

There will come a Christian by, 

Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [Exit. 

Shy lock. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha ? 

Jessica. His words were " Farewell, mistress ; " nothing else. 

Shy lock. The patch 2 is kind enough, but a huge feeder ; 
Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day 
More than the wild cat : drones hive not with me ; 
Therefore I part with him, and part with him 
To one that I would have him help to waste 
His borrow'd purse. Well, Jessica, go in : 
Perhaps I will return immediately : 
Do as I bid you ; shut doors after you : 
Fast bind, fast find ; 
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. [Exit. 

Jessica. Farewell ; and if my fortune be not crost, 
I have a father, you a daughter, lost. [Exit. 

Scene VI. The Same. 

Enter Gratiano and Salarino, masqued. 

Gratiano. This is the penthouse 3 under which Lorenzo 
Desired us to make stand. 

1 See Gen. xxxii. 10, and Heh. xi. 21. 2 Fool. 3 Shed. 



scene vi.] THE MERCHANT OE VENICE. 47 

Salarino. His hour is almost past. 

Gratiano. And it is marvel he outdwells his hour, 
For lovers ever run before the clock. 

Salarino. Oh, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly 
To seal love's bonds new-made, than they are wont 
To keep obliged faith unforfeited ! x 

Gratiano. That ever holds : who riseth from a feast 
With that keen appetite that he sits down ? 
Where is the horse that doth untread again 
His tedious measures with the unbated fire 
That he did pace them first ? All things that are, 
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. 

Salarino. Here comes Lorenzo : more of this hereafter. 

Enter Lorenzo. 

Lorenzo. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode ; 
Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait : 
When you shall please to play the thieves for wives, 
I'll watch as long for you then. Approach ; 
Here dwells my father Jew. Ho! who's within ? 

Enter JESSICA, above, in boy's clothes. 

Jessica. Who are you ? Tell me, for more certainty, 
Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue. 

Lorenzo. Lorenzo, and thy love. 

Jessica. Lorenzo, certain, and my love indeed, 
For whom love I so much ? And now who knows 
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours ? 

Lore?izo. Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou art. 

Jessica. Here, catch this casket ; it is worth the pains. 
I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me, 
For I am much asham'd of my exchange : 

1 " Ten times faster," etc., i.e., the goddess of love, in her dove-drawn 
chariot, flies ten times faster, to assist in sealing new bonds of love, than to 
assist in keeping inviolate the bonds that have been formed. 



48 SHAKESPEARE. [act ii. 

But love is blind and lovers cannot see 
The pretty follies that themselves commit ; 
For if they could, Cupid 1 himself would blush 
To see me thus transformed to a boy. 

Lorenzo. Descend, for you must be my torchbearer. 

Jessica. What, must I hold a candle to my shames ? 
They in themselves, good sooth, 2 are too, too light. 
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love ; 
And I should be obscur'd. 

Lorenzo. So are you, sweet, 

Even in the lovely garnish of a boy. 
But come at once ; 

For the close night doth play the runaway, 
And we are stay'd for at Bassanio's feast. 

Jessica. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself 
With some more ducats, and be with you straight. [Exit above. 

Gratiano. Now, by my hood, a Gentile and no Jew. 

Lorenzo. Beshrew me but I love her heartily ; 
For she is wise, if I can judge of her, 
And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true, 
And true she is, as she hath prov'd herself, 
And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true, 
Shall she be placed in my constant soul. 

Enter Jessica, below. 

What, art thou come ? On, gentlemen ; away ! 
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay. 

[Exit with Jessica and Salarino. 

Enter Antonio. 
Antonio. Who's there ? 
Gratiano. Signior Antonio ! 
Antonio. Fie, fie, Gratiano ! where are all the rest ? 

1 Cupid, the god of love of classic mythology, is represented as a winged 
infant bearing a bow and quiver full of arrows. 

2 " Good sooth," i.e., in very truth. 



scene vii.] THE MERCHANT OE VENICE. 49 

Tis nine o'clock : our friends all stay for you. 
No masque to-night : the wind is come about ; 
Bassanio presently will go aboard : 
I have sent twenty out to seek for you. 

Gratiano. I am glad on't : 1 desire no more delight 
Than to be under sail and gone to-night. [Exeunt. 



Scene VII. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. 

Flourish of cornets. Enter Portia, with the Prince of Morocco, and 

their trains. 

Portia. Go draw aside the curtains and discover 
The several caskets to this noble prince. 
Now make your choice. 

Morocco. The first, of gold, who 1 this inscription bears, 
" Who choose th me shall gain what many men desire;" 
The second, silver, which this promise carries, 
" Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves y" 
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt, 
" Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath," 
How shall I know if I do choose the right ? 

Portia. The one of them contains my picture, prince : 
If you choose that, then I am yours withal. 

Morocco. Some god direct my judgment ! Let me see ; 
I will survey the inscriptions back again. 
What says this leaden casket ? 

" Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath" 
Must give : for what ? for lead ? hazard for lead ?. 
This casket threatens. Men that hazard all 
Do it in hope of fair advantages : 
A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross ; 
I'll then nor give nor hazard aught for lead. 

1 " Who " and " which " were to some extent used indifferently by writers 
of the time. 



50 SHAKESPEARE. [act ii. 

What says the silver with her virgin hue ? 

" Who chooscth me shall get as much as he deserves" 

As much as he deserves ! Pause there, Morocco, 

And weigh thy value with an even hand : 

If thou be'st rated by thy estimation, 

Thou dost deserve enough ; and yet enough 

May not extend so far as to the lady : 

And yet to be afeard of my deserving 

Were but a weak disabling of myself. 

As much as I deserve ! Why, that's the lady : 

I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes, 

In graces and in qualities of breeding ; 

But more than these, in love I do deserve. 

What if I stray 'd no further, but chose here? 

Let's see once more this saying grav'd in gold ; 

" Who chooseth vie shall gain what many men desire." 

Why, that's the lady ; all the world desires her ; 

From the four corners of the earth they come, 

To kiss this shrine, this mortal-breathing saint : 

The Hyrcanian 1 deserts and the vasty wilds 

Of wide Arabia are as throughfares 2 now 

For princes to come view fair Portia: 

The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head 

Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar 

To stop the foreign spirits, but they come, 

As o'er a brook, to see fair Portia. 

One of these three contains her heavenly picture. 

Is't like that lead contains her ? 'Twere damnation 

To think so base a thought : it were too gross 

To rib her cerecloth 3 in the obscure grave. 

Or shall I think in silver she's immur'd, 

1 Hyrcania was the name given to a district of uncertain extent south of 
the Caspian or Hyrcanian Sea. Shakespeare alludes to it in other plays as 
a " land of tigers." 2 Thoroughfares. 

3 A prepared cloth used for wrapping a corpse. 



scene vii.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 51 

Being ten times undervalued to tri'd gold ? 

sinful thought ! Never so rich a gem 

Was set in worse than gold. They have in England 

A coin that bears the figure of an angel l 

Stamp'd in gold, but that's insculp'd upon ; 

But here an angel in a golden bed 

Lies all within. Deliver me the key : 

Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may ! 

Portia. There, take it, prince ; and if my form lie there, 
Then I am yours. [He unlocks the golden casket. 

Morocco. O hell ! what have w T e here ? 

A carrion Death, within whose empty eye 
There is a written scroll! I'll read the writing. 

[ Reads] "All that glisters is not gold j 

Often have you heard that told : 
Many a man his life hath sold 
But my outside to behold : 
Gilded tombs do worms infold. 
Had you been as wise as bold, 
Young in limbs, in judgment old, 
Your answer had not been inscroll d : 
Fare you well ; your suit is cold." 

Cold, indeed ; and labor lost : 
Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost ! 
Portia, adieu. I have too griev'd a heart 
To take a tedious leave : thus losers part. 

[Exit with his train. Flourish of cornets. 
Portia. A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains, go. 
Let all of his complexion choose me so. [Exeunt. 

l An old English coin first coined in the reign of Edward IV. (1465) bore 
the figure of St. Michael piercing the dragon. 



5 2 SHA KESPEA RE. [act «• 

Scene VIII. Venice. A Street. 

Enter Salarino and SALANIO. 

Salarirw. Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail: 
With him is Gratiano gone along ; 
And in their ship 1 am sure Lorenzo is not. 

Salanio. The villain Jew with outcries rais'd the duke, 
Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship. 

Salarino. He came too late, the ship was under sail : 
But there the duke was given to understand 
That in a gondola l were seen together 
Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica : 
Besides, Antonio certified the duke 
They were not with Bassanio in his ship. 

Salanio. I never heard a passion so confus'd, 
So strange, outrageous, and so variable, 
As the dog Jew did utter in the streets : 
" My daughter ! O my ducats ! O my daughter 
Fled with a Christian ! O my Christian ducats ! 
Justice ! the law ! my ducats, and my daughter ! 
A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats, 
Of double ducats, stol'n from me by my daughter ! 
And jewels, two stones, two rich and precious stones, 
Stol'n by my daughter ! Justice ! find the girl ; 
She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats." 

Salarino. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him, 
Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats. 

Salanio. Let good Antonio look he keep his day, 
Or he shall pay for this. 

Salarino. Marry, well remember'd. 

I reason'd 2 with a Frenchman yesterday, 
Who told me, in the narrow seas that part 
The French and English, there miscarried 

1 The Venetian pleasure boat. 2 Talked. 



scene ix.] THE MERCHANT OE VENICE. 53 

A vessel of our country richly fraught : l 
I thought upon Antonio when he told me ; 
And wish'd in silence that it were not his. 

Salanio. You were best to tell Antonio what you hear ; 
Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him. 

Salarino. A kinder gentleman treads not the earth. 
I saw Bassanio and Antonio part : 
Bassanio told him he would make some speed 
Of his return : he answer'd, " Do not so ; 
Slubber 2 not business for my sake, Bassanio, 
But stay the very riping of the time ; 
And for the Jew's bond which he hath of me, 
Let it not enter in your mind of love : 
Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts 
To courtship and such fair ostents 3 of love 
As shall conveniently become you there : " 
And even there, his eye being big with tears, 
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him, 
And with affection wondrous sensible 4 
He wrung Bassanio's hand ; and so they parted. 

Salanio. I think he only loves the world for him. 
\ pray thee, let us go and find him out 
And quicken his embraced heaviness 
With some delight or other. 

Salarino. Do we so. [Exeunt. 

Scene IX. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. 

Enter Nerissa with a Servitor. 

Nerissa. Quick, quick, I pray thee ; draw the curtain straight : 5 
The Prince of Arragon hath ta'en his oath, 
And comes to his election 6 presently. 

1 Laden. 2 To do carelessly. 3 Manifestations. 4 Sensitive. 
5 At once. 6 " To his election," i.e., to make his choice. 



54 SHAKESPEARE. [act ii. 

Flourish of cornets. Enter the Prince of Arragon, Portia, 
and their trains. 

Portia. Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince : 
If you choose that wherein I am contain'd, 
Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemniz'd : 
But if you fail, without more speech, my lord, 
You must be gone from hence immediately. 

Arragon. I am enjoin'd by oath to observe three things: 
First, never to unfold to any one 
Which casket 'twas I chose ; next, if I fail 
Of the right casket, never in my life 
To woo a maid in way of marriage ; 
Lastly, 

If I do fail in fortune of my choice, 
Immediately to leave you and be gone. 

Portia. To these injunctions every one doth swear 
That comes to hazard for my worthless self. 

Arragon. And so have I address'd me. 1 Fortune now 
To my heart's hope ! Gold, silver, and base lead. 
" Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath" 
You shall look fairer, ere I give or hazard. 
What says the golden chest ? ha ! let me see : 
" Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire." 
What many men desire! that " many " may be meant 
By 2 the fool multitude, that choose by show, 
Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach ; 
Which pries not to the interior, but, like the martlet, 3 
Builds in the weather on the outward wall, 
Fven in the force and road of casualty. 
I will not choose what many men desire, 
Because I will not jump with 4 common spirits 

1 "Address'd me," i.e., made myself ready. 

2 For. 3 The house martin. 

4 " Jump with," i.e., go with. " Jump " is often used by Shakespeare in 
this sense of " agreement." 



scene ix.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 55 

And rank me with the barbarous multitudes. 

Why, then to thee, thou silver treasure-house ; 

Tell me once more what title thou dost bear : 

" Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves:" 

And well said too ; fur who shall go about 

To cozen fortune and be honorable 

Without the stamp of merit ? Let none presume 

To wear an undeserved dignity. 

Oh that estates, 1 degrees, and offices 

Were not deriv'd corruptly, and that clear honor 

Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer ! 

How many then should cover that stand bare ! 

How many be commanded that command ! 

How much low peasantry would then be glean'd 

From the true seed of honor ! and how much honor 

Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times 

To be new-varnish'd ! Well, but to my choice : 

" Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves." 

I will assume desert. Give me a key for this, 

And instantly unlock my fortunes here. [He opens the silver casket. 

Portia. Too long a pause for that which you find there. 

Arragon. What's here ? The portrait of a blinking idiot, 
Presenting me a schedule ! I will read it. 
How much unlike art thou to Portia ! 
How much unlike my hopes and my deservings ! 
" Who chooseth vie shall have as much as he deserves." 
Did I deserve no more than a fool's head ? 
Is that my prize ? are my deserts no better ? 

Portia. To offend, and judge, are distinct offices 
And of opposed natures. 

Arragon. What is here ? 

[Peads] " The fire seven times tried this : 

Seven times tried that judgment is y 
That did never choose amiss. 

1 Dignities, not property. 



56 SHAKESPEARE. [act ii. 

Some there be that shadows kiss; 
Such have but a shadow's bliss : 
There befools alive, I wis, 1 
Silver" d o'er ; and so was this. 
Take what wife you will to wed, 
I will ever be your head : 
So be gone : you are sped" 

Still more fool I shall appear 

By the time I linger here : 

With one fool's head I came to woo, 

But I go away with two. 

Sweet, adieu. I'll keep my oath, 

Patiently to bear my wroth. 2 

[Exeunt Arragon and train. 
Portia. Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth. 
Oh, these deliberate fools ! when they do choose, 
They have the wisdom by their wit to lose. 

Nerissa. The ancient saying is no heresy, 
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny. 
Portia. Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa. 

Enter a Servant. 

Servant. Where is my lady ? 

Portia. Here: what would my lord? 

Servant. Madam, there is alighted at your gate 
A young Venetian, one that comes before 
To signify the approaching of his lord ; 
From whom he bringeth sensible regreets, 3 
To wit, besides commends and courteous breath, 
Gifts of rich value. Yet I have not seen 
So likely an ambassador of love : 

1 Am sure. 

2 " Patiently to bear," etc., i.e., patiently to bear the disappointment that 
has caused my anger. 

3 " Sensible regreets," i.e., substantial greetings. 



scene I.] THE MERCHANT OE VENICE. 57 

A day in April never came so sweet, 

To show how costly summer was at hand, 

As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord. 

Portia. No more, I pray thee : I am half afeard 
Thou wilt say anon he is some kin to thee, 
Thou spend'st such high-day wit in praising him. 
Come, come, Nerissa ; for I long to see 
Quick Cupid's post : that comes so mannerly. 

Nerissa. Bassanio, lord Love, if thy will it be! [Exeunt. 



ACT III. 
Scene I. Venice. A Street. 

Enter Salanio and SALARINO. 

Salanio. Now, what news on the Rialto ? 

Salarino. Why, yet it lives there uncheck'd that Antonio hath 
a ship of rich lading wreck'd on the narrow seas ; the Good- 
wins, 2 I think they call the place ; a very dangerous flat and 
fatal, where the carcasses of many a tall ship lie buried, as they 
say, if my gossip Report be an honest woman of her word. 

Salanio. I would she were as lying a gossip in that as ever 
knapp'd 3 ginger or made her neighbors believe she wept for the 
death of a third husband. But it is true, without any slips of 
prolixity or crossing the plain highway of talk, that the good 
Antonio, the honest Antonio, — Oh that I had a title good 
enough to keep his name company ! — 

Salarino. Come, the full stop. 

Salanio. Ha ! what say'st thou? Why, the end is, he hath 
lost a ship. 

Salarino. I would it might prove the end of his losses. 

1 Postman. 

2 The Goodwin Sands, not far from the mouth of the Thames. They were 
at one time an island, the property of Earl Goodwin, which was submerged 
about the year noo. 3 Snapped, or broke off. 



58 SHAKESPEARE. [act hi. 

Salanio. Let me say " amen " betimes, lest the devil cross my 
prayer, for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew. 

Enter Shylock. 

How now, Shylock ! what news among the merchants ? 

Shylock. You knew, none so well, none so well as you, of my 
daughter's flight. 

Salarino. That's certain: I, for my part, knew the tailor that 
made the wings she flew withal. 

Salanio. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was 
fledg'd ; and then it is the complexion ] of them all to leave the 
dam. 

Shylock. She is damn'd for it. 

Salarino. That's certain if the devil may be her judge. 

Shylock. My own flesh and blood to rebel ! 

Salanio. Out upon it, old carrion! rebels it at these years ? 

Shylock. I say, my daughter is my flesh and blood. 

Salarino. There is more difference between thy flesh and hers 
than between jet and ivory : more between your bloods than 
there is between red wine and rhenish. But tell us, do you hear 
whether Antonio have had any loss at sea or no ? 

Shylock. There I have another bad match: a bankrupt, a 
prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on the Rialto ; a beg- 
gar, that was us'd to come so smug 2 upon the mart ; let him look 
to his bond : he was wont to call me usurer ; let him look to 
his bond : he was wont to lend money for a Christian courtesy ; 
let him look to his bond. 

Salarino. Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take his 
flesh : what's that good for ? 

Shylock. To bait fish withal : if it will feed nothing else, it 
will feed my revenge. He hath disgrac'd me, and hinder'd me 
half a million ; laugh'd at my losses, mock'd at my gains, scorned 
my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine 

1 Disposition. 

2 Studiously neat and trim, with a self-satisfied air. 



scene I.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 59 

enemies; and what's his reason ? I am a Jew. Hath not a 
Jew eyes ? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, af- 
fections, passions ? fed with the same food, hurt with the same 
weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, 
warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Chris- 
tian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed ? if you tickle us, do 
we not laugh ? if you poison us, do we not die ? and if you 
wrong us, shall we not revenge ? If we are like you in the rest, 
we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what 
is his humility ? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what 
should his sufferance be by Christian example ? Why, revenge. 
The villany you teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard 
but I will better the instruction. 

Enter a Servant. 

Servant. Gentlemen, my master Antonio is at his house and 
desires to speak with you both. 

Salarino. We have been up and down to seek him. 

Enter Tubal. 

Salanio. Here comes another of the tribe : a third cannot be 
match'd, unless the devil himself turn Jew. 

[Exeunt Salanio, Salarino, and Servant. 

Shylock. How now, Tubal ! what news from Genoa ? hast 
thou found my daughter ? 

Tubal. I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot find 
her. 

Shylock. Why, there, there, there, there ! a diamond gone, 
cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfort ! The curse never 
fell upon our nation till now ; I never felt it till now : two 
thousand ducats in that; and other precious, precious jewels. 
I would my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in 
her ear! would she were hears'd at my foot, and the ducats in 
her coffin ! No news of them ? Why, so : and I know not 
what's spent in the search : why, thou loss upon loss ! the thief 



60 SHAKESPEARE. [act ill. 

gone with so much, and so much to find the thief ; and no satis- 
faction, no revenge : nor no ill luck stirring but what lights on 
my shoulders ; no sighs but of my breathing ; no tears but of 
my shedding. 

Tubal. Yes, other men have ill luck too : Antonio, as I heard 
in Genoa, — 

Shy lock. What, what, what? ill luck, ill luck? 

Tubal. Hath an argosy cast away, coming from Tripolis. 

Shylock. I thank God, I thank God. Is't true, is't true ? 

Tubal. I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped the 
wreck. 

Shylock. .1 thank thee, good Tubal : good news, good news ! 
ha, ha ! where ? in Genoa ? 

Tubal. Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, in one 
night fourscore ducats. 

Shylock. Thou stick'st a dagger in me : I shall never see my 
gold again : fourscore ducats at a sitting ! fourscore ducats ! 

Tubal. There came divers of Antonio's creditors in my com- 
pany to Venice, that swear he cannot choose but break. 

Shylock. I am very glad of it: I'll plague him; I'll torture 
him : I am glad of it. 

Tubal. One of them showed me a ring that he had of your 
daughter for a monkey. 

Shylock. Out upon her ! Thou torturest me, Tubal : it was 
my turquoise : I had it of Leah when I was a bachelor : I would 
not have given it for a wilderness of monkeys. 

Tubal. But Antonio is certainly undone. 

Shylock. Nay, that's true, that's very true. Go, Tubal, fee 
me an officer ; bespeak him a fortnight before. I will have the 
heart of him, if he forfeit ; for, were he out of Venice, I can 
make what merchandise l I will. Go, go, Tubal, and meet me at 
our synagogue ; go, good Tubal ; at our synagogue, Tubal. 

\Exe tint. 
1 Profit by merchandising. 



scene ii.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 61 



Scene II. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. 

Enter Bassanto, Portia, Gratiano, Nerissa, and Attendants. 

Portia. I pray you, tarry : pause a day or two 
Before you hazard ; for, in choosing wrong, 
I lose your company : therefore forbear awhile. 
There's something tells me, but it is not love, 
I would not lose you ; and you know yourself, 
Hate counsels not in such a quality. 
But lest you should not understand me well, — 
And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought, — 
I would detain you here some month or two 
Before you venture for me. I could teach you 
How to choose right, but I am then forsworn ; 
So will I never be : so may you miss me ; 
But if you do, you'll make me wish a sin, 
That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes, 
They have o'erlook'd l me and divided me ; 
One half of me is yours, the other half yours, 
Mine own, I would say ; but if mine, then yours, 
And so all yours. Oh, these naughty times 
Put bars between the owners and their rights ! 
And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so, 
Let fortune go to hell for it, not I. 
I speak too long ; but 'tis to peize the time, 2 
To eke it, and to draw it out in length, 
To stay you from election. 

Bassanio. Let me choose ; 

For as I am, I live upon the rack. 

1 Bewitched, in allusion to the superstitious notion of the influence of 
malignant and envious eyes. 

2 " To peize the time," i.e., to weight the time, that it may pass 
slowly. " Peize " is from the French word signifying " to weigh " or " to 
balance." 



62 SHAKESPEARE. [act hi. 

Portia. Upon the rack, Bassanio ! then confess 
What treason there is mingled with your love. 

Bassanio. None but that ugly treason of mistrust, 
Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love : 
There may as well be amity and life 
'Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love. 

Portia. Ay, but I fear you speak upon the rack, 
Where men enforced do speak anything. 

Bassanio. Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth. 

Portia. Well then, confess and live. 

Bassanio. " Confess " and " love " 

Had been the very sum of my confession : 
O happy torment, when my torturer 
Doth teach me answers for deliverance ! 
But let me to my fortune and the caskets. 

Portia. Away, then ! I am lock'd in one of them : 
If you do love me, you will find me out. 
Nerissa and the rest, stand all aloof. 
Let music sound while he doth make his choice ; 
Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like 1 end, 
Fading in music : that the comparison 
May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream 
And watery deathbed for him. He may win ; 
And what is music then ? Then music is 
Even as the flourish when true subjects bow 
To a new-crowned monarch : such it is 
As are those dulcet sounds in break of day 
That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear 
And summon him to marriage. Now he goes, 
With no less presence, but with much more love, 
Than young Alcides, 2 when he did redeem 

1 It is an old belief that the swan, at other times songless, " chants a dole- 
ful hymn to his own death." 

2 It fell to the lot of Hesione, daughter of Laomedon, King of Troy, to 
be exposed to the sea monster to whom the Trojans from time to time offered 



scene II.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 63 

The virgin tribute paid by howling Troy 

To the sea monster : I stand for sacrifice ; 

The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives, l 

With bleared visages, come forth to view 

The issue of the exploit. Go, Hercules ! 

Live thou, I live : with much, much more dismay 

I view the fight than thou that mak'st the fray. 

Music, whilst Bassanio comments on the caskets to himself. 

Song. 

Tell me where is fancy bred, 

Or in the heart or in the head? 

How begot, how nourished ? 
Reply, reply. 

It is engender 'd in the eyes, 

With gazing fed ; and fancy dies 

In the cradle where it lies. 

Let us all ring fancy 's knell : 
I VI begin it, — Ding, doug, bell. 

All. Ding, dong, bell. 

Bassanio. So may the outward shows be least themselves : 
The world is still deceiv'd with ornament. 
In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt 
But, being season'd with a gracious voice, 
Obscures the show of evil ? In religion, 
What damned error, but some sober brow 
Will bless it and approve it with a text, 
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament ? 

a marriageable virgin to appease the wrath of Apollo and Neptune, whom 
Laomedon had offended; but Alcides (Hercules, see Note 3, p. 35), who, 
returning from his expedition against the Amazons, had stopped at Troy, 
promised to rescue the princess provided he received as a reward six beautiful 
horses. The king consented, and Alcides attacked and slew the monster just 
as he was going to devour the maiden. 

1 " Dardanian wives," i.e., Trojan matrons. It is fabled that Dardanus, 
son of Jupiter, founded the Kingdom of Troy : hence this appellation of 

Dardanian " to its inhabitants. 



64 SHAKESPEARE. [act hi. 

There is no vice so simple but assumes 

Some mark of virtue on his x outward parts : 

How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false 

As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins 

The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars, 

Who, inward search'd, have livers white as milk ; 

And these assume but valor's excrement 2 

To render them redoubted ! Look on beauty, 

And you shall see 'tis purchas'd by the weight ; 

Which therein works a miracle in nature, 

Making them lightest that wear most of it : 

So are those crisped snaky golden locks 

Which make such wanton gambols with the wind, 

Upon supposed fairness, often known 

To be the dowry of a second head, 

The skull that bred them in the sepulcher. 

Thus ornament is but the guiled 3 shore 

To a most dangerous sea ; the beauteous scarf 

Veiling an Indian beauty ; in a word, 

The seeming truth which cunning times put on 

To entrap the wisest. Therefore, thou gaudy gold, 

Hard food for Midas, 4 I will none of thee ; 

Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge 

'Tween man and man : but thou, thou meager lead, 



1 In Shakespeare's time " his " was used as the possessive of "it "as 
well as of " he." 

2 " Valor's excrement," i.e., the outward sign of valor, referring here to 
the beard. 

3 Treacherous. 

4 Midas was a King of Phrygia. According to the mythologists, his hos- 
pitality to Silenus, the preceptor of Bacchus, was liberally rewarded by that 
god ; and he was permitted to demand any recompense he desired. The King 
asked that whatever he touched might be turned into gold. His request was 
granted ; but, when the very meats he attempted to eat became gold in his 
mouth, he begged Bacchus to revoke a gift that must prove fatal to the 
receiver. 



scene ii.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 65 

Which rather threat'nest than dost promise aught, 
Thy plainness moves me more than eloquence ; 
And here choose I : joy be the consequence ! 

Portia. [Aside] How all the other passions fleet to air, 
As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embrac'd despair, 
And shudd'ring fear, and green-eyed jealousy ! 

love, 

Be moderate ; allay thy ecstasy ; 

In measure rain thy joy ; scant this excess. 

1 feel too much thy blessing : make it less, 
For fear I surfeit. 

Bassanio. What find I here ? 

[ Opening the leaden casket. 
Fair Portia's counterfeit ! What demigod 
Hath come so near creation ? Move these eyes ? 
Or whether, riding on the balls of mine, 
Seem they in motion ? Here are sever'd lips, 
Parted with sugar breath : so sweet a bar 
Should sunder such sweet friends. Here in her hairs 
The painter plays the spider and hath woven 
A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men 
Faster than gnats in cobwebs : but her eyes, — 
How could he see to do them ? having made one, 
Methinks it should have power to steal both his 
And leave itself unfurnish'd. Yet look, how far 
The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow 
In underprizing it, so far this shadow 
Doth limp behind the substance. Here's the scroll, 
The continent 1 and summary of my fortune. 

[Heads] " You that choose not by the view, 

Chance as fair and choose as true ! 
Since this fortune falls to you, 
Be conte?it and seek no new. 

1 " Continent " means here " that which contains." 



66 SHAKESPEARE. [act hi. 

If 'you be well pleas 'd with this 
And hold your fortune for your bliss, 
Turn you where your lady is 
And claim her with a loving hiss." 

A gentle scroll. Fair lady, by your leave ; 
I come by note, to give and to receive. 
Like one of two contending in a prize, 
That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes, 
Hearing applause and universal shout, 
Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt 
Whether those peals of praise be his or no ; 
So, thrice-fair lady, stand I, even so ; 
As doubtful whether what I see be true, 
Until confirm'd, sign'd, ratified by you. 

Portia. You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand, 
Such as I am : though for myself alone 
I would not be ambitious in my wish, 
To wish myself much better ; yet, for you 
I would be trebled twenty times myself ; 
A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times 
More rich ; 

That only to stand high in your account, 
I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends, 
Exceed account ; but the full sum of me 
Is sum of nothing, which, to term in gross, 
Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractic'd ; 
Happy in this, she is not yet so old 
But she may learn ; happier then in this, 
She is not bred so dull but she can learn ; 
Happiest of all in that her gentle spirit 
Commits itself to yours to be directed, 
As from her lord, her governor, her king. 
Myself and what is mine to you and yours 
Is now converted : but now I was the lord 
Of this fair mansion, master of my servants, 



scene II.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 67 

Queen o'er myself; and even now, but now, 
This house, these servants, and this same myself 
Are yours, my lord : I give them with this ring ; 
Which when you part from, lose, or give away, 
Let it presage the ruin of your love 
And be my vantage to exclaim on you. 

Bassanio. Madam, you have bereft me of all words, 
Only my blood speaks to you in my veins ; 
And there is such confusion in my powers, 
As, after some oration fairly spoke 
By a beloved prince, there doth appear 
Among the buzzing pleased multitude ; 
Where every something, being blent together, 
Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy, 
Express'd and not express'd. But when this ring 
Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence : 
Oh, then be bold to say Bassanio's dead ! 

Ncrissa. My lord and lady, it is now our time, 
That have stood by and seen our wishes prosper, 
To cry, good joy : good joy, my lord and lady ! 

Gratiano. My lord Bassanio and my gentle lady, 
I wish you all the joy that you can wish ; 
For I am sure you can wish none from me : 
And when your honors mean to solemnize 
The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you, 
Even at that time I may be married too. 

Bassanio. With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife. 

Gratiano. I thank your lordship, you have got me one. 
My eyes, my lord, can look as swift as yours : 
You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid ; 
You lov'd, I lov'd ; for intermission l 
No more pertains to me, my lord, than you. 
Your fortune stood upon the casket there, 



Delay. 



68 SHAKESPEARE. [act hi. 

And so did mine too, as the matter falls ; 

For wooing here until I sweat again, 

And swearing till my very roof was dry 

With oaths of love, at last, if promise last, 

I got a promise of this fair one here 

To have her love, provided that your fortune 

Achiev'd her mistress. 

Portia. Is this true, Nerissa ? 

Nerissa. Madam, it is, so you stand pleas'd withal. 

Bassanio. And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith ? 

Gratiano. Yes, faith, my lord. 

Bassanio. Our feast shall be much honor'd in your marriage. 

Gratiano. But who comes here ? Lorenzo and his infidel ? 
What, and my old Venetian friend Salanio ? 

Enter Lorenzo, Jessica, and Salanio, a messenger from Venice. 

Bassanio. Lorenzo and Salanio, welcome hither ; 
If that the youth of my new interest here 
Have power to bid you welcome. By your leave, 
I bid my very 1 friends and countrymen, 
Sweet Portia, welcome. 

Portia. So do I, my lord : 

They are entirely welcome. 

Lorenzo. I thank your honor. For my part, my lord, 
My purpose was not to have seen you here ; 
But meeting with Salanio by the way, 
He did entreat me, past all saying nay, 
To come with him along. 

Salanio. I did, my lord ; 

And I have reason for it. Signior Antonio 
Commends him to you. [Gives Bassanio a letter. 

Bassanio. Ere I ope his letter, 

I pray you, tell me how my good friend doth. 

1 True. 



scene li.) THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 69 

Salanio. Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind ; 
Nor well, unless in mind : his letter there 
Will show you his estate. 1 

Gratiano. Nerissa, cheer yon stranger ; bid her welcome. 
Your hand, Salanio ; what's the news from Venice ? 
How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio ? 
I know he will be glad of our success ; 
We are the Jasons, 2 we have won the fleece. 

Salanio. I would you had won the fleece that he hath lost. 

Poj'tia. There are some shrewd 3 contents in yon same paper, 
That steals the color from Bassanio's cheek : 
Some dear friend dead ; else nothing in the world 
Could turn so much the constitution 
Of any constant man. What, worse and worse ! 
With leave, Bassanio ; I am half yourself, 
And I must freely have the half of anything 
That this same paper brings you. 

Bassanio. O sweet Portia, 

Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words 
That ever blotted paper ! Gentle lady, 
When I did first impart my love to you, 
I freely told you, all the wealth I had 
Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman ; 
And then I told you true : and yet, dear lady, 
Rating myself at nothing, you shall see 
How much I was a braggart. When I told you 
My state was nothing, I should then have told you 
That I was worse than nothing ; for, indeed, 
I have engag'd myself to a dear friend, 
Engag'd my friend to his mere 4 enemy, 
To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady; 
The paper as the body of my friend, 
And every word in it a gaping wound, 

1 Condition. 2 See Note 3, p. 23. 3 Bitter. 4 Thorough. 



70 SHAKESPEARE. [act hi. 

Issuing lifeblood. But is it true, Salanio ? 

Have all his ventures fail'd ? What, not one hit ? 

From Tripoli's, from Mexico and England, 

From Lisbon, Barbary and India ? 

And not one vessel 'scape the dreadful touch 

Of merchant-marring rocks ? 

Salanio. Not one, my lord. 

Besides, it should appear, that if he had 
The present money to discharge the Jew, 
He would not take it. Never did I know 
A creature, that did bear the shape of man, 
So keen and greedy to confound a man : 
He plies the duke at morning and at night, 
And doth impeach the freedom of the state, 
If they deny him justice : twenty merchants, 
The duke himself, and the magnificoes l 
Of greatest port, 2 have all persuaded 3 with him ; 
But none can drive him from the envious 4 plea 
Of forfeiture, of justice and his bond. 

Jessica. When I was with him I have heard him swear 
To Tubal and to Chus, his countrymen, 
That he would rather have Antonio's flesh 
Than twenty times the value of the sum 
That he did owe him : and I know, my lord, 
If law, authority, and power deny not, 
It will go hard with poor Antonio. 

Portia. Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble ? 

Bassanio. The dearest friend to me, the kindest man, 
The best-condition'd and unwearied spirit 
In doing courtesies, and one in whom 
The ancient Roman honor more appears 
Than any that draws breath in Italy. 



l The chief men of Venice. 2 " Greatest port," i.e., highest dignity. 

3 Argued. 4 Malicious. 



scene ii.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 71 

Portia. What sum owes he the Jew ? 

Bassanio. For me three thousand ducats. 

Portia. ■ What, no more? 

Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond ; 
Double six thousand, and then treble that, 
Before a friend of this description 
Shall lose a hair through Bassanio's fault. 
First go with me to church and call me wife, 
And then away to Venice to your friend ; 
For never shall you lie by Portia's side 
With an unquiet soul. You shall have gold 
To pay the petty debt twenty times over : 
When it is paid, bring your true friend along. 
My maid Nerissa and myself meantime 
Will live as maids and widows. Come, away! 
For you shall hence upon your wedding day: 
Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer : * 
Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear. 
But let me hear the letter of your friend. 

Bassanio. [Reads] ^ Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all mis- 
carried, my creditors grow cruel, my estate is very low, my bond to 
the Jew is forfeit ; and since in paying it, it is impossible I should 
live, all debts are clear" d between you and I, 2 if I might but see you at 
my death. NotwitJistanding, use your pleasure : if your love do 7iot 
Persuade you to come, let not my letter" 

Portia. O love, dispatch all business, and be gone ! 

Bassanio. Since I have your good leave to go away, 
I will make haste : but, till I come again, 

No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay, 

No rest be interposer 'twixt us twain. [Exeunt. 

1 Countenance. 

2 " Between you and I," a grammatical irregularity often found in the 
literature of the Elizabethan age. 



72 SHAKESPEARE. [act hi. 

Scene III. Venice. A Street. 

Enter Shylock, Salarino, Antonio, and Gaoler. 

Shy lock. Gaoler, look to him : tell not me of mercy ; 
This is the fool that lent out money gratis : 
Gaoler, look to him. 

Antonio. Hear me yet, good Shylock. 

Shylock. I'll have my bond; speak not against my bond : 
I have sworn an oath that I will have my bond. 
Thou call'dst me dog before thou hadst a cause ; 
But, since 1 am a dog, beware my fangs : 
The duke shall grant me justice. I do wonder, 
Thou naughty gaoler, that thou art so fond ] 
To come abroad with him at his request. 

Anto7iio. I pray thee, hear me speak. 

Shylock. I'll have my bond ; I will not hear thee speak : 
I'll have my bond ; and therefore speak no more. 
I'll not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool, 
To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield 
To Christian intercessors. Follow not ; 
I'll have no speaking: I will have my bond. [Exit. 

Salarino. It is the most impenetrable cur 
That ever kept 2 with men. 

Antonio. Let him alone : 

I'll follow him no more with bootless prayers. 
He seeks my life ; his reason well I know : 
I oft deliver'd from his forfeitures 
Many that have at times made moan to me ; 
Therefore he hates me. 

Salari?io. I am sure the duke 

Will never grant this forfeiture to hold. 

A?itonio. The duke cannot deny the course of law : 
For the commodity that strangers have 

1 Foolish. 2 Lived. 



scene iv.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 73 

With us in Venice, if it be denied, 

Will much impeach the justice of his state; 

Since that the trade and profit of the city 

Consisteth of all nations. 1 Therefore, go : 

These griefs and losses have so bated me, 

That I shall hardly spare a pound of flesh 

To-morrow to my bloody creditor. 

Well, gaoler, on. Pray God, Bassanio come 

To see me pay his debt, and then I care not ! [Exeunt. 

Scene IV. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. 

Enter Portia, Nerissa, Lorenzo, Jessica, and Balthasar. 

Lorenzo. Madam, although I speak it in your presence, 
You have a noble and a true conceit 2 
Of godlike amity ; which appears most strongly 
In bearing thus the absence of your lord. 
But if you knew to whom you show this honor, 
How true a gentleman you send relief, 
How dear a lover of my lord your husband, 
I know you would be prouder of the work 
Than customary bounty can enforce you. 

Portia. I never did repent for doing good, 
Nor shall not now : for in companions 
That do converse and waste 3 the time together, 
Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of love, 
There must be needs a like proportion 
Of lineaments, of manners, and of spirit ; 
Which makes me think that this Antonio, 
Being the bosom lover of my lord, 

1 " For the commodity," etc. "To refuse to strangers their privileges 
will be an imputation on the state's justice, since it is to the strangers that 
the city owes its trade." Shylock was not a citizen of Venice. 

2 Conception. 

3 " Waste " means here simply " spend," not " spend uselessly." 



74 SHAKESPEARE. [act hi. 

Must needs be like my lord. If it be so, 

How little is the cost I have bestow'd 

In purchasing the semblance of my soul 

From out the state of hellish misery ! 

This comes too near the praising of myself ; 

Therefore no more of it : hear other things. 

Lorenzo, I commit into your hands 

The husbandry and manage of my house 

Until my lord's return : for mine own part, 

I have toward heaven breath'd a secret vow 

To live in prayer and contemplation, 

Only attended by Nerissa here, 

Until her husband and my lord's return : 

There is a monastery two miles off ; 

And there will we abide. I do desire you 

Not to deny this imposition ; 

The which my love and some necessity 

Now lays upon you. 

Lore7izo. Madam, with all my heart ; 

I shall obey you in all fair commands. 

Portia. My people do already know my mind, 
And will acknowledge you and Jessica 
In place of Lord Bassanio and myself. 
And so farewell, till we shall meet again. 

Lorenzo. Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you ! 

Jessica. I wish your ladyship all heart's content. 

Portia. I thank you for your wish, and am well pleas'd 
To wish it back on you : fare you well, Jessica. 

[JSxeunt Jessica and Lorenzo. 
Now, Balthasar, 

As I have ever found thee honest-true, 
So let me find thee still. Take this same letter, 
And use thou all the endeavor of a man 
In speed to Padua : see thou render this 
Into my cousin's hand, Doctor Bellario ; 



scene IV.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 75 

And, look, what notes and garments he doth give thee, 

Bring them, I pray thee, with imagin'd speed 

Unto the tranect, 1 to the common ferry 

Which trades to Venice. Waste no time in words, 

But get thee gone : I shall be there before thee. 

Balthasar. Madam, I go with all convenient speed. [Exit. 

Portia. Come on, Nerissa ; I have work in hand 
That you yet know not of : we'll see our husbands 
Before they think of us. 

Nerissa. Shall they see us ? 

Portia. They shall, Nerissa ; but in such a habit, 
That they shall think we are accomplished 
With that we lack. I'll hold thee any wager, 
When we are both accoutred like young men, 
I'll prove the prettier fellow of the two, 
And wear my dagger with the braver grace, 
And speak between the change of man and boy 
With a reed voice, and turn two mincing steps 
Into a manly stride, and speak of frays 
Like a fine bragging youth, and tell quaint 2 lies, 
How honorable ladies sought my love, % 

Which I denying, they fell sick and died ; 
I could not do withal ; then I'll repent, 
And wish, for all that, that I had not kill'd them ; 
And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell, 
That men shall swear I have discontinued school 
Above a twelvemonth. I have within my mind 
A thousand raw tricks of these bragging Jacks, 
Which I will practice. 

But come, I'll tell thee all my whole device 
When I am in my coach, which stays for us 
At the park gate ; and therefore haste away, 
For we must measure twenty miles to-day. [Exeunt. 

1 There is no other instance of the use of this word. It may be a misprint 
for " traject." The ferries in Venice were called traghetti. 2 Fanciful. 



76 SHAKESPEARE. [act hi. 

Scene V. The Same. A Garden. 

Enter Launcelot and Jessica. 

Launcelot. Yes, truly ; for, look you, the sins of the father are 
to be laid upon the children : therefore, I promise ye, I fear you. 1 
I was always plain with you, and so now I speak my agitation of 
the matter : therefore be of good cheer, for truly I think you are 
damn'd. There is but one hope in it that can do you any good ; 
and that is but a kind of base hope neither. 

Jessica. And what hope is that, I pray thee? 

Launcelot. Marry, you may partly hope that you are not the 
Jew's daughter. 

Jessica. That were a kind of base hope, indeed : so the sins 
of my mother should be visited upon me. 

Laimcelot. Truly then I fear you are damned both by father 
and mother : thus when I shun Scylla, 2 your father, I fall into 
Charybdis, 2 your mother : well, you are gone both ways. 

Jessica. I shall be sav'd by my husband ; he hath made me a 
Christian. 

Launcelot. J'ruly, the more to blame he : we were Christians 

enow 3 before ; e'en as many as could well live, one by another. 

This making of Christians will raise the price of hogs : if we grow 

all to be pork-eaters, we shall not shortly have a rasher 4 on the 

coals for money. 

Enter Lorenzo. 

Jessica. I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say: here 
he comes. 

Lorenzo. I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot. 

1 " I fear you," i.e., I fear for you. 

2 Scylla and Charybdis were two dangerous rocks on either side the narrow 
strait between Italy and Sicily. Mariners, in their solicitude to keep clear of 
the one, were imperiled by the other : hence " in avoiding Scylla to run upon 
Charybdis " became proverbial as expressing the condition of those who, 
anxious to shun one evil, meet with a greater. 

3 Enough. 4 A rasher is a slice of bacon broiled over a quick fire. 



scene v.] THE MERCHANT OE VENICE. 77 

Jessica. Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo : Launcelot and 
I are out. He tells me flatly, there is no mercy for me in heaven, 
because I am a Jew's daughter: and he says, you are no good 
member of the commonwealth, for in converting Jews to Chris- 
tians, you raise the price of pork. 

Lorenzo. Go in, sirrah ; bid them prepare for dinner. 

Launcelot. That is done, sir ; they have all stomachs. 

Lorenzo. Goodly Lord, what a wit-snapper are you! then bid 
them prepare dinner. 

Launcelot. That is done too, sir ; only " cover " is the word. 

Lorenzo. Will you cover then, sir ? 

Launcelot. Not so, sir, neither ; I know my duty. 

Lorenzo. Yet more quarreling with occasion ! 1 Wilt thou 
show the whole wealth of thy wit in an instant ? I pray thee, 
understand a plain man in his plain meaning : go to thy fellows ; 
bid them cover the table, serve in the meat, and we will come 
in to dinner. 

Launcelot. For the table, sir, it shall be serv'd in ; for the 
meat, sir, it shall be covered ; for your coming in to dinner, sir, 
why, let it be as humors and conceits shall govern. [Exit. 

Lorenzo. O dear discretion, how his words are suited ! 
The fool hath planted in his memory 
An army of good words ; and I do know 
A many fools, that stand in better place, 
Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word 
Defy the matter. How cheer'st thou, Jessica ? 
And now, good sweet, say thy opinion, 
How dost thou like the Lord Bassanio's wife ? 

Jessica. Past all expressing. It is very meet 
The Lord Bassanio live an upright life ; 
For, having such a blessing in his lady, 
He finds the joys of heaven here on earth ; 
And if on earth he do not mean it, 2 then 

1 " Quarreling with occasion," i.e., ill-timed punning and quibbling. 

2 " Mean it," i.e., mean to live uprightly. 



78 SHAKESPEARE. [act iv. 

In reason he should never come to heaven. 
Why, if two gods should play some heavenly match 
And on the wager lay two earthly women, 
And Portia one, there must be something else 
Pawn'd with the other, for the poor rude world 
Hath not her fellow. 

Lorenzo. Even such a husband 

Hast thou of me as she is for a wife. 

Jessica. Nay, but ask my opinion too of that. 

Lorenzo. I will anon : first, let us go to dinner. 

Jessica. Nay, let me praise you while I have a stomach. 

Lorenzo. No, pray thee, let it serve for table-talk ; 
Then, howsoe'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things 
I shall digest it. 

Jessica. Well, I'll set you forth. [Exeunt. 



ACT IV. 

Scene I. Venice. A Court of Justice. 

Enter the Duke, the Magnificoes, Antonio, Bassanio, Gratiano, 
Salerio, and others. 

Duke. What, is Antonio here ? 

Antonio. Ready, so please your grace. 

Duke. I am sorry for thee : thou art come to answer 
A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch 
Uncapable 1 of pity, void and empty 
From any dram of mercy. 

Antonio. I have heard 

Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify 
His rigorous course ; but since he stands obdurate 
And that no lawful means can carry me 
Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose 

1 Incapable. 



scene I.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 79 

My patience to his fury, and am arm'd 
To suffer, with a quietness of spirit, 
The very tyranny and rage of his. 

Duke. Go one, and call the Jew into the court. 

Salerio. He is ready at the door : he comes, my lord. 

Enter Shylock. 

Duke. Make room, and let him stand before our face. 
Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too, 
That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice 
To the last hour of act ; and then 'tis thought 
Thou'lt show thy mercy and remorse more strange 
Than is thy strange apparent cruelty ; 
And where thou now exact'st the penalty, 
Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh, 
Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture, 
But, touch'd with human gentleness and love, 
Forgive a moiety 1 of the principal ; 
Glancing an eye of pity on his losses, 
That have of late so huddled on his back, 
Enow to press a royal merchant down 
And pluck commiseration of his state 
From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint, 
From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd 
To offices of tender courtesy. 
We all expect a gentle answer, Jew. 

Shylock. I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose ; 
And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn 
To have the due and forfeit of my bond : 
If you deny it, let the danger light 
Upon your charter and your city's freedom. 
You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have 
A weight of carrion flesh than to receive 

1 A moiety is literally " a half," but is used here, and frequently elsewhere 
by Shakespeare, for "a portion." 



8o SHAKESPEARE. [act iv. 

Three thousand ducats : I'll not answer that : 

But, say, it is my humor : is it answer'd ? 

What if my house be troubled with a rat 

And I be pleas'd to give ten thousand ducats 

To have it baned ? x What, are you answer'd yet ? 

Some men there are love not a gaping pig ; 

Some, that are mad if they behold a cat ; 

For affection, 

Mistress of passion, sways it to the mood 

Of what it likes or loathes. Now, for your answer: 

As there is no firm reason to be render'd, 

Why he 2 cannot abide a gaping pig ; 

Why he, 2 a harmless necessary cat ; 

So can I give no reason, nor I will not, 

More than a lodg'd hate and a certain loathing 

I bear Antonio, that I follow thus 

A losing suit against him. Are you answer'd ? 

Bassanio. This is no answer, thou unfeeling man, 
To excuse the current of thy cruelty. 

Shylock. I am not bound to please thee with my answers. 

Bassanio. Do all men kill the things they do not love? 

Shylock. Hates any man the thing he would not kill? 

Bassanio. Every offense is not a hate at first. 

Shylock. What, would'st thou have a serpent sting thee twice? 

Antonio. I pray you, think you question with the Jew : 
You may as well go stand upon the beach 
And bid the main flood bate his usual height ; 
You may as well use question with the wolf 
Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb ; 
You may as well forbid the mountain pines 
To wag their high tops and to make no noise, 
When they are fretten 3 with the gusts of heaven ; 
You may as well do anything most hard, 
As seek to soften that — than which what's harder? — 

1 Destroyed. 2 This person. 3 Fretted ; troubled ; moved. 



scene I.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 81 

His Jewish heart : therefore, I do beseech you, 
Make no more offers, use no further means, 
But with all brief and plain conveniency 
Let me have judgment and the Jew his will. 

Bassanio. For thy three thousand ducats here is six. 

Shy lock. If every ducat in six thousand ducats 
Were in six parts and every part a ducat, 
I would not draw them ; I would have my bond. 

Duke. How shalt thou hope for mercy, rend'ring none? 

Shy lock. What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong? 
You have among you many a purchas'd slave, 
Which, like your asses and your dogs and mules, 
You use in abject and in slavish parts, 
Because you bought them : shall I say to you, 
Let them be free, marry them to your heirs ? 
Why sweat they under burthens ? let their beds 
Be made as soft as yours and let their palates 
Be season'd with such viands ? You will answer, 
" The slaves are ours : " so do I answer you : 
The pound of flesh, which I demand of him, 
Is dearly bought ; 'tis mine and I will have it. 
If you deny me, fie upon your law ! 
There is no force in the decrees of Venice. 
I stand for judgment : answer ; shall I have it ? 

Duke. Upon my power I may dismiss this court, 
Unless Bellario, a learned doctor, 
Whom I have sent for to determine this, 
Come here to-day. 

Salerio. My lord, here stays without 

A messenger with letters from the doctor, 
New come from Padua. 

Duke. Bring us the letters ; call the messenger. 

Bassa?iio. Good cheer, Antonio! What, man, courage yet ! 
The Jew shall have my flesh, blood, bones and all, 
Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood. 
6 



82 SHAKESPEARE. [act iv. 

Antonio. I am a tainted wether of the flock, 
Meetest for death : the weakest kind of fruit 
Drops earliest to the ground ; and so let me : 
You cannot better be employ'd, Bassanio, 
Than to live still and write mine epitaph. 

Enter Nerissa, dressed like a lawyers clerk. 

Duke. Came you from Padua, from Bellario ? 

Nerissa. From both, my lord. Bellario greets your grace. 

[Presenting a letter. 

Bassanio. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly? 

Shy lock. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there. 

Gratiano. Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew, 
Thou mak'st thy knife keen ; but no metal can, 
No, not the hangman's ax, bear half the keenness 
Of thy sharp envy. 1 Can no prayers pierce thee ? 

Shylock. No, none that thou hast wit enough to make. 

Gratiano. Oh, be thou damn'd, inexorable dog ! 
And for thy life let justice be accus'd. 
Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith 
To hold opinion with Pythagoras, 2 
That souls of animals infuse themselves 
Into the trunks of men : thy currish spirit 
Govern'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human slaughter, 
Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet, 
And, whilst thou lay'st in thy unhallow'd dam, 
Infus'd itself in thee ; for thy desires 
Are wolvish, bloody, starv'd, and ravenous. 

Shylock. Till thou canst rail the seal from off my bond, 
Tho^but offend'st thy lungs to speak so loud : 
Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall 
To cureless ruin. I stand here for law. 

1 Malice. 

2 One of the most celebrated of the old Greek philosophers. He was the 
first among them to support the doctrine of metempsychosis, or the transmi- 
gration of souls into different bodies. 



scene I.] THE MERCHANT OF VEX ICE. 83 

Duke. This letter from Bellario doth commend 
A young and learned doctor to our court. 
Where is he? 

Nerissa. He attendeth here hard by, 1 

To know your answer, whether you'll admit him. 

Duke. With all my heart. Some three or four of you 
Go give him courteous conduct to this place. 
Meantime the court shall hear Bellario's letter. 

Clerk. [Reads] " Your grace shall understand that at the receipt 
of your letter I am very sick : but in the instant that yo?tr messenger 
came, in loving visitation was with vie a young doctor of Rome ; his 
name is Balthasar. I acquainted him with the cause in controversy 
between the Jew and Antonio the merchant: we turn 'd o'er many 
books together: he is furnished with my opinion; which, better 'd 
with his own learning, the greatness whereof I cannot enough com- 
mend, comes with him, at my importunity, to fill up your grace's 
request in my stead. I beseech you, let his lack of years be no impedi- 
ment to let him lack a reverend estimation ; for I never knew so young 
a body with so old a head. I leave him to your gracious acceptance, 
whose trial shall better publish his commendation." 

Duke. You hear the learn'd Bellario, what he writes : 
And here, I take it, is the doctor come. 

Enter Portia, dressed like a doctor of laws. 

Give me your hand. Came you. from old Bellario ? 

Portia. I did, my lord. 

Duke. You are welcome : take your place. 

Are you acquainted with the difference 
That holds this present question in the court ? 

Portia. I am informed throughly 2 of the cause. 
Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew? 

Duke. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth. 

Portia. Is your name Shylock ? 

Shylock. Shylock is my name. 

1 " Hard by," i.e., close at hand. 2 Thoroughly. 



84 SHAKESPEARE. [act iv. 

Portia. Of a strange nature is the suit you follow ; 
Yet in such rule that the Venetian law 
Cannot impugn you as you do proceed. 
You stand within his danger, do you not ? 

Antonio. Ay, so he says. 

Portia. Do you confess the bond ? 

Antonio. I do. 

Portia. Then must the Jew be merciful. 

Shylock. On what compulsion must I ? tell me that. 

Portia. The quality of mercy is not strain'd, 1 
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven 
Upon the place beneath : it is twice blest ; 
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes : 
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest : it becomes 
The throned monarch better than his crown ; 
His scepter shows the force of temporal power, 
The attribute to awe and majesty, 
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; 
But mercy is above this scepter'd sway ; 
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, 
It is an attribute to God himself ; 
And earthly power doth then show likest God's 
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, 
Though justice be thy plea, consider this, 
That, in the course of justice, none of us 
Should see salvation : we do pray for mercy ; 
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render 
The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much 
To mitigate the justice of thy plea; 
Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice 
Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there. 

Shylock. My deeds upon my head ! I crave the law, 
The penalty and forfeit of my bond. 

Portia. Is he not able to discharge the money ? 

l " Is not strain'd," i.e., is free from constraint. 



scene i.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 85 

Bassanio. Yes, here I tender it for him in the court ; 
Yea, twice the sum : if that will not suffice, 
I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er, 
On forfeit of my hands, my head ? my heart : 
If this will not suffice, it must appear 
That malice bears down truth. And I beseech you, 
Wrest once the law to your authority : 
To do a great right, do a little wrong, 
And curb this cruel devil of his will. 

Portia. It must not be ; there is no power in Venice 
Can alter a decree established : 
'Twill be recorded for a precedent, 
And many an error by the same example 
Will rush into the state : it cannot be. 

Shylock. A Daniel come to judgment ! yea, a Daniel ! 
O wise young judge, how I do honor thee ! 

Portia. I pray you, let me look upon the bond. 

Shylock. Here 'tis, most reverend doctor, here it is. 

Portia. Shylock, there's thrice thy money offer'd thee. 

Shylock. An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven : 
Shall I lay perjury upon my soul ? 
No, not for Venice. 

Portia. Why, this bond is forfeit ; 

And lawfully by this the Jew may claim 
A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off 
Nearest the merchant's heart. Be merciful : 
Take thrice thy money ; bid me tear the bond. 

Shylock. When it is paid according to the tenor. 
It doth appear you are a worthy judge ; 
You know the law, your exposition 
Hath been most sound : I charge you by the law, 
W r hereof you are a well-deserving pillar, 
Proceed to judgment : by my soul I swear 
There is no power in the tongue of man 
To alter me : I stay here on my bond. 



86 SHAKESPEARE. [act iv. 

Antonio. Most heartily I do beseech the court 
To give the judgment. 

Portia. Why then, thus it is : 

You must prepare your bosom for his knife. 

Shylock. O noble judge ! O excellent young man ! 

Portia. For the intent and purpose of the law 
Hath full relation to the penalty, 
Which here appeareth due upon the bond. 

Shylock. Tis very true : O wise and upright judge ! 
How much more elder l art thou than thy looks ! 

Portia. Therefore lay bare your bosom. 

Shylock. Ay, his breast : 

So says the bond : doth it not, noble judge ? 
" Nearest his heart : " those are the very words. 

Portia. It is so. Are there balance 2 here to weigh 
The flesh ? 

Shylock. I have them ready. 

Portia. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge, 
To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death. 

Shylock. Is it so nominated in the bond ? 

Portia. It is not so express'd : but what of that ? 
'Twere good you do so much for charity. 

Shylock. I cannot find it ; 'tis not in the bond. 

Portia. You, merchant, have you anything to say ? 

Antonio. But little : I am arm'd and well prepar'd. 
Give me your hand, Bassanio : fare you well ! 
Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you ; 
For herein Fortune shows herself more kind 
Than is her custom : it is still her use 
To let the wretched man outlive his wealth, 
To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow 
An age of poverty ; from which ling'ring penance 
Of such a misery doth she cut me off. 

1 " More elder," a double eomparative, not infrequent with Shakespeare. 

2 That is, a pair of balances. 



scene i.] THE MERCHANT OE VENICE. 87 

Commend me to your honorable wife : 
Tell her the process of Antonio's end ; 
Say how I lov'd you, speak me fair in death ; 
And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge 
Whether Bassanio had not once a love. 
Repent but you that you shall lose your friend, 
And he repents not that he pays your debt ; 
For if the Jew do cut but deep enough, 
I'll pay it presently with all my heart. 

Bassanio. Antonio. I am married to a wife 
Which is as dear to me as life itself ; 
But life itself, my wife, and all the world, 
Are not with me esteem'd above thy life : 
I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all 
Here to this devil, to deliver you. 

Portia. Your wife would give you little thanks for that, 
If she were by, to hear you make the offer. 

Gratiano. I have a wife, whom, I protest, I love: 
I would she were in heaven, so she could 
Entreat some power to change this currish Jew. 

Nerissa. 'Tis well you offer it behind her back ; 
The wish would make else an unquiet house. 

Shylock. \Aside\ These be the Christian husbands. I have a 
daughter ; 
Would any of the stock of Barrabas 1 
Had been her husband rather than a Christian ! 
We trifle time : I pray thee, pursue sentence. 

Portia. A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine : 
The court awards it, and the law doth give it. 

Shylock. Most rightful judge ! 

Portia. And you must cut this flesh from off his breast : 
The law allows it, and the court awards it. 

Shylock. Most learned judge ! A sentence ! Come, prepare ! 

1 The reference is to the descendants of Barabbas, the malefactor who was 
pardoned at the Crucifixion (see Luke xxiii. 18, 19). 



88 SHAKESPEARE. [act iv. 

Portia. Tarry a little ; there is something else. 
This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood ; 
The words expressly are " a pound of flesh : " 
Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh ; 
But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed 
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods 
Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate ] 
Unto the state of Venice. 

Gratiano. O upright judge ! Mark, Jew : O learned judge ! 

Shy lock. Is that the law ? 

Portia. Thyself shalt see the act : 

For, as thou urgest justice, be assur'd 
Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desirest. 

Gratiano. O learned judge ! Mark, Jew : a learned judge ! 

Shy lock. I take his offer, then ; pay the bond thrice 
And let the Christian go. 

Bassanio. Here is the money. 

Portia. Soft ! 
The Jew shall have all justice ; soft ! no haste : 
He shall have nothing but the penalty. 

Gratiano. O Jew ! an upright judge^a learned judge ! 

Portia. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh. 
Shed thou no blood, nor cut thou less nor more 
But just a pound of flesh : if thou cutt'st more 
Or less than a just pound, be it but so much 
As makes it light or heavy in the substance 
Or the division of the twentieth part 
Of one poor scruple, nay, if the scale do turn 
But in the estimation of a hair, 
Thou diest and all thy goods are confiscate. 

Gratiano. A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew ! 
Now, infidel, I have you on the hip. 

Portia. Why doth the Jew pause ? take thy forfeiture. 

Shylock. Give me my principal, and let me go. 
1 Confiscated. 



scene i.] THE MERCHANT OE VENICE. 89 

Bassanio. I have it ready for thee ; here it is. 

Portia. He hath refus'd it in the open court : 
He shall have merely justice and his bond. 

Gratiano. A Daniel, still say I, a second Daniel ! 
I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. 

Shy lock. Shall I not have barely my principal ? 

Portia. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture, 
To be so taken at thy peril, Jew. 

Shy lock. Why, then the devil give him good of it ! 
I'll stay no longer question. 

Portia. Tarry, Jew : 

The law hath yet another hold on you. 
It is enacted in the laws of Venice, 
If it be prov'd against an alien 
That by direct or indirect attempts 
He seek the life of any citizen, 
The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive 
Shall seize one half his goods ; the other half 
Comes to the privy coffer of the state ; 
And the offender's life lies in the mercy 
Of the duke only, 'gainst all other voice. 
In which predicament, 1 I say, thou stand'st ; 
For it appears, by manifest proceeding, 
That indirectly and directly too 
Thou hast contriv'd against the very life 
Of the defendant ; and thou hast incurr'd 
The danger formerly by me rehears'd. 
Down therefore and beg mercy of the duke. 

Gratiano. Beg that thou mayst have leave to hang thyself : 
And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state, 
Thou hast not left the value of a cord ; 
Therefore thou must be hang'd at the state's charge. 

Duke. That thou shalt see the difference of our spirit, 
I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it : 

1 Situation. 



90 SHAKESPEARE. [act iv. 

For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's ; 

The other half comes to the general state, 

Which humbleness may drive unto a fine. 

Portia. Ay, for the state, not for Antonio. 

Shy lock. Nay, take my life and all ; pardon not that : 
You take my house when you do take the prop 
That doth sustain my house ; you take my life 
When you do take the means whereby I live. 

Portia. What mercy can you render him, Antonio? 

Gratiano. A halter gratis ; nothing else, for God's sake. 

Antonio. So please my lord the duke and all the court • 
To quit the fine for one half of his goods, 
I am content ; so he will let me have 
The other half in use, to render it, 
Upon his death, unto the gentleman 
That lately stole his daughter : 
Two things provided more, that, for this favor, 
He presently become a Christian ; 
The other, that he do record a gift, 
Here in the court, of all he dies possess'd, 
Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter. 

Duke. He shall do this, or else I do recant 
The pardon that I late pronounced here. 

Portia. Art thou contented, Jew ? what dost thou say ? 

Shylock. I am content. 

Portia. Clerk, draw a deed of gift. 

Shylock. I pray you, give me leave to go from hence ; 
I am not well : send the deed after me, 
And I will sign it. 

Duke. Get thee gone, but do it. 

Gratiano. In christ'ning shalt thou have two godfathers : 
Had I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more, 1 
To bring thee to the gallows, not the font. [Exit Shylock. 

1 " Ten more," i.e., instead of two godfathers, he should have had a jury 
of twelve men to try him. 



scene i.] THE MERCHANT OF VEX ICE. 91 

Duke. Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner. 

Portia. I humbly do desire your grace of pardon : 1 
I must away this night toward Padua, 
And it is meet I presently set forth. 

Duke. I am sorry that your leisure serves you not. 
Antonio, gratify 2 this gentleman, 
For, in my mind, you are much bound to him. 

[Exeunt Duke and /lis train. 

Bassanio. Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend 
Have by your wisdom been this day acquitted 
Of grievous penalties ; in lieu whereof, 
Three thousand ducats, due unto the Jew, 
We freely cope 3 your courteous pains withal. 

Antonio. And stand indebted, over and above, 
In love and service to you evermore. 

Portia. He is well paid that is well satisfied ; 
And I, delivering you, am satisfied 
And therein do account myself well paid : 
My mind was never yet more mercenary. 
I pray you, know me when we meet again : 
I wish you well, and so I take my leave. 

Bassanio. Dear sir, of force I must attempt you further : 
Take some remembrance of us, as a tribute, 
Not as a fee : grant me two things, I pray you, 
Not to deny me, and to pardon me. 

Portia. You press me far, and therefore I will yield. 
[To Antonio] Give me your gloves, I'll wear them for your sake ; 
[To Bassanio] And, for your love, I'll take this ring from you: 
Do not draw back your hand ; I'll take no more ; 
And you in love shall not deny me this. 

Bassanio. This ring, good sir, alas, it is a trifle! 
I will not shame myself to give you this. 

1 " Desire your grace of pardon," a form of expression frequent with old 
writers. Shakespeare has elsewhere, "I desire you of the like" and "I shall 
desire you of more acquaintance." 2 Reward with a fee. 3 Requite. 






92 SHAKESPEARE. [act iv. 

Portia. I will have nothing else but only this ; 
And now methinks I have a mind to it. 

Bassanio. There's more depends on this than on the value. 
The dearest ring in Venice will I give you, 
And find it out by proclamation : 
Only for this, I pray you, pardon me. 

Portia. I see, sir, you are liberal in offers : 
You taught me first to beg ; and now methinks 
You teach me how a beggar should be answer' d. 

Bassanio. Good sir, this ring was given me by my wife ; 
And when she put it on, she made me vow 
That I should neither sell nor give nor lose it. 

Portia. That 'scuse serves many men to save their gifts. 
An if your wife be not a mad-woman, 
And know how well I have deserv'd the ring, 
She would not hold out enemy forever, 
For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you ! 

[Exewit Po?'tia a?id Nerissa. 

Antonio. My Lord Bassanio, let him have the ring : 
Let his deservings and my love withal 
Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandment. 

Bassanio. Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him ; 
Give him the ring, and bring him, if thou canst, 
Unto Antonio's house: away ! make haste. [Exit Gratiano. 

Come, you and I will thither presently ; 
And in the morning early will we both 
Fly toward Belmont : come, Antonio. [Exeunt. 

Scene II. The Same. A Street. 

Enter Portia and Nerissa. 

Portia. Inquire the Jew's house out, give him this deed 
And let him sign it : we'll away to-night 
And be a day before our husbands home : 
This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo. 



scene I.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 93 

Enter Gratiano. 

Gratiano. Fair sir, you are well o'erta'en : 
My Lord Bassanio upon more advice 1 
Hath sent you here this ring, and doth entreat 
Your company at dinner. 

Portia. That cannot be : 

His ring I do accept most thankfully : 
And so, I pray you, tell him : furthermore, 
I pray you, show my youth old Shylock's house. 

Gratiano. That will I do. 

JVerissa. Sir,- 1 would speak with you. 

[Aside to Portia] I'll see if I can get my husband's ring, 
Which I did make him swear to keep forever. 

Portia. [Aside to JVerissa] Thou mayst, I warrant. We shall 
have old swearing 
That they did give the rings away to men ; 
But we'll outface them, and outswear them too. 
[Aloud] Away ! make haste : thou know'st where I will tarry. 

JVerissa. Come, good sir, will you show me to this house ? 

[Exeunt. 

ACT V. 

Scene I. Belmont. Avenue to Portia's House. 

Enter Lorenzo and Jessica. 

Lorenzo. The moon shines bright : in such a night as this, 
When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees 
And they did make no noise, in such a night 
Troilus 2 methinks mounted the Troyan walls 

1 Reflection. 

2 The story of the loves of Troilus and Cressid is not classical, though it 
is the groundwork of one of Shakespeare's plays. In the Iliad, Homer names 
Troilus as a son of Priam, King of Troy, but Cressid was not known to the 
ancients. 



94 SHAKESPEARE. [act v. 

And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents, 
Where Cressid lay that night. 

Jessica. In such a night 

Did Thisbe l fearfully o'ertrip the dew 
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself 
And ran dismay'd away. 

Lorenzo. In such a night 

Stood Dido 2 with a willow in her hand 
Upon the wild sea banks and waft her love 
To come again to Carthage. 

Jessica. In such a night 

Medea 3 gather'd the enchanted herbs 
That did renew old y£son. 

Lorenzo. In such a night 

Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew 

1 Fyramus and Thisbe were mythical lovers of Babylon, whose parents 
forbade their marriage. Determined to elude the vigilance of their friends, 
they appointed a place of meeting beyond the walls of the city. Thisbe 
came first, but, affrighted by a lion, fled to a cave, in her flight dropping her 
veil, which the lion seized and besmeared with his bloody mouth. When 
Pyramus arrived he discovered the stained garment, and, supposing Thisbe 
had fallen a prey to some wild beast, overwhelmed with grief, stabbed him- 
self. Thisbe, returning, found her lover dead, and in despair killed herself 
with the sword he had used. 

2 Dido, it is said, was the founder and queen of Carthage, the ancient city 
on the Mediterranean coast of Africa, ^neas, a Trojan hero, on his way to 
Italy with a company of colonists, driven by stress of weather into the port 
of Carthage, was kindly received by Dido, who would have married him ; 
but, obeying the mandate of the gods, ^neas sailed away with his ships, 
leaving her despondent and forlorn. 

3 Medea, we are told, was a famous magician, daughter of yEetes, King 
of Colchis. When Jason came to Colchis in quest of the Golden Fleece (see 
Note 3, p. 23), she became enamored of him. On his return to his native coun- 
try, the success of his expedition was celebrated with great rejoicings ; but 
his father, /Eson, was unable to assist at the solemnities, owing to the infirm- 
ities of age. Medea, at the request of her husband, removed the weakness of 
TEson, and drawing the blood from his veins, and filling them again with 
juices of certain plants, renewed in him the vigor and vivacity of youth. 



scene i.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 95 

And with an unthrift love did run from Venice 
As far as Belmont. 

Jessica. In such a night 

Did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well, 
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith 
And ne'er a true one. 

Lorenzo. In such a night 

Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew, 
Slander her love, and he forgave it her. 

Jessica. I would out-night you, did nobody come ; 
But, hark, I hear the footing of a man. 

Enter Stephano. 

Lorenzo. Who comes so fast in silence of the night ? 

Stephano. A friend. 

Lorenzo. A friend ! what friend ? your name, I pray you, 
friend ? 

Stephano. Stephano is my name ; and I bring word 
My mistress will before the break of day 
Be here at Belmont : she doth stray about 
By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays 
For happy wedlock hours. 

Lorenzo. Who comes with her ? 

Stephano. None but a holy hermit and her maid. 
I pray you, is my master yet return' d ? 

Lorenzo. He is not, nor we have not heard from him. 
But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica, % 

And ceremoniously let us prepare 
Some welcome for the mistress of the house. 

Enter Launcelot. 

Launcelot. Sola, sola ! wo ha, ho ! sola, sola ! 
Lorenzo. Who calls ? 

Launcelot. Sola ! did you see Master Lorenzo and Mistress 
Lorenzo ? sola, sola ! 



96 SHAKESPEARE. [act v. 

Lorenzo. Leave hollaing, man : here. 

Launcelot. Sola ! where ? where ? 

Lorenzo. Here. 

Launcelot. Tell him there's a post come from my master, with 
his horn full of good news : my master will be here ere morning. 

[Exit. 

Loretizo. Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect * their coming. 
And yet no matter : why should we go in ? 
My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you, 
Within the house, your mistress is at hand ; 

And bring your music forth into the air. [Exit Stephano. 

I How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! 
Here will we sit and let the sounds of music 
Creep in our ears : soft stillness and the night 
Become the touches of sweet harmony. 
Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven 
Is thick inlaid with patines 2 of bright gold : 
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st 
But in his motion like an angel sings, 
Still quiring 3 to the young-ey'd cherubins ; 
Such harmony is in immortal souls ; 
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay 
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. 

Enter Musicians. 

Come, ho ! and wake Diana with a hymn : 

With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear 

And draw her home with music. [Music. 

Jessica. I am never merry when I hear sweet music. 

Lore?izo. The reason is, your spirits are attentive : 
For do but note a wild and wanton herd 
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, 

1 Await. 

2 A patine was a small plate, generally of gold, used in the Eucharist. 

3 That is, " choiring," singing. 



scene i.] THE MERCHANT OE VENICE. 97 

Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, 

Which is the hot condition of their blood ; 

If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, 

Or any air of music touch their ears, 

You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, 

Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze 

By the sweet power of music : therefore the poet 

Did feign that Orpheus * drew trees, stones, and floods ; 

Since naught so stockish, hard, and full of rage, 

But music for the time doth change his nature. 

The man that hath no music in himself, 

Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, 

Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ; 

The motions of his spirit are dull as night 

And his affections dark as Erebus : 2 

Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music. 

Enter Portia and Nerissa. 

Portia. That light we see is burning in my hall. 
How far that little candle throws his beams ! 
So shines a good deed in a naughty world. 

Nerissa. When the moon shone, we did not see the candle. 

Portia. So doth the greater glory dim the less : 
A substitute shines brightly as a king 
Until a king be by, and then his state 
Empties itself, as doth an inland brook 
Into the main of waters. Music ! hark ! 

A r eiissa. It is your music, madam, of the house. 

Portia. Nothing is good, I see, without respect : 
Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day. 

1 Orpheus, the old mythologists relate, was the son of Apollo, from whom 
he received a lyre, upon which he played so skillfully that even the most 
rapid rivers ceased to flow, the savage beasts of the forests forgot their wild- 
ness, and the mountains moved, to listen to his music. 

2 The gloomy region between the earth and Hades. 

7 



98 SHAKESPEARE. [act v. 

Nerissa. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam. 

Portia. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark 
When neither is attended, and I think 
The nightingale, if she should sing by day, 
When every goose is cackling, would be thought 
No better a musician than the wren. 
How many things by season season' d are 
To their right praise and true perfection j/ 
Peace, ho ! the moon sleeps with Endymion * 
And would not be awak'd. [Music ceases. 

Lorenzo. That is the voice, 

Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia. 

Portia. He knows me as the blind man knows the cuckoo, 
By the bad voice. 

Lorenzo. Dear lady, welcome home. 

Portia. We have been praying for our husbands' healths, 
Which speed, we hope, the better for our words. 
Are they return'd ? 

Lorenzo. Madam, they are not yet ; 

But there is come a messenger before, 
To signify their coming. 

Portia. Go in, Nerissa ; 

Give order to my servants that they take 
No note at all of our being absent hence ; 
Nor you, Lorenzo ; Jessica, nor you. [A tucket 2 sounds. 

Lorenzo. Your husband is at hand ; I hear his trumpet : 
We are no telltales, madam ; fear you not. 

Portia. This night methinks is but the daylight sick ; 
It looks a little paler : 'tis a day, 
Such as the day is when the sun is hid. 

1 A shepherd of mythology, with whom Selene, the goddess of the moon, 
fell in love. Ashamed to have a mere mortal know that she loved him, she 
caused Endymion to fall into a deep sleep, during which she visited and 
caressed him. 

2 Trumpet. 



scene I.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 99 

Enter Bassanio, Antonio, Gratiano, and their followers. 

Bassanio. We should hold day with the Antipodes, 
If you would walk in absence of the sun. 1 

Portia. Let me give light, but let me not be light ; 
For a light wife doth make a heavy husband, 
And never be Bassanio so for me : 
But God sort all ! You are welcome home, my lord. 

Bassanio. I thank you, madam. Give welcome to my friend. 
This is the man, this is Antonio, 
To whom I am so infinitely bound. 

Portia. You should in all sense be much bound to him, 
For, as I hear, he was much bound for you. 

Antonio. No more than I am well acquitted of. 

Portia. Sir, you are very welcome to our house : 
It must appear in other ways than words, 
Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy. 

Gratiano. [ To JVerissa] By yonder moon I swear you do me 
wrong ; 
In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk. 

Portia. A quarrel, ho, already ! what's the matter ? 

Gratiano. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring 
That she did give to me, whose posy was 
For all the world like cutler's poetry 2 
Upon a knife, " Love me, and leave me not." 

JVerissa. What talk you of the posy or the value ? 
You swore to me, when I did give it you, 
That you would wear it till your hour of death 
And that it should lie with you in your grave : 
Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths, 
You should have been respective and have kept it. 

1 " We should hold," etc., i.e., we should have daylight when the Antip- 
odes have it, if you would come abroad at night. 

2 " Cutler's poetry." Swords, the blades of knives, etc., were inscribed, 
by the action of an acid, with distiches and mottoes. 



ioo SHAKESPEARE. [act v, 

Gave it a judge's clerk! no, God's my judge, 
The clerk will ne'er wear hair on's face that had it. 

Gratiano. He will, an if he live to be a man. 

Nerissa. Ay, if a woman live to be a man. 

Gratiano. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth, 
A kind of boy, a little scrubbed l boy, 
No higher than thyself, the judge's clerk, 
A prating boy, that begg'd it as a fee : 
I could not for my heart deny it him. 

Portia. You were to blame, I must be plain with you, 
To part so slightly with your wife's first gift ; 
A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger 
And so riveted with faith unto your flesh. 
I gave my love a ring and made him swear 
Never to part with it ; and here he stands ; 
I dare be sworn for him he would not leave it 
Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth 
That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano, 
You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief : 
An 'twere to me, I should be mad at it. 

Bassanio. [Aside] Why, I were best to cut my left hand off 
And swear I lost the ring defending it. 

Gratia?io. My Lord Bassanio gave his ring away 
Unto the judge that begg'd it and indeed 
Deserv'd it too ; and then the boy, his clerk, 
That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine ; 
And neither man nor master would take aught 
But the two rings. 

Portia. What ring gave you, my lord ? 

Not that, I hope, which you receiv'd of me. 

Bassanio. If I could add a lie unto a fault, 
I would deny it ; but you see my finger 
Hath not the ring upon it ; it is gone. 

1 Stunted. 



scene i.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 101 

Portia. Even so void is your false heart of truth. 
By heaven, I will never be your wife 
Until I see the ring. 

Nerissa. No, nor I yours 

Till I again see mine. 

Bassanio. Sweet Portia, 

If you did know to w T hom I gave the ring, 
If you did know for whom I gave the ring 
And would conceive for what I gave the ring 
And how unwillingly I left the ring, 
When naught would be accepted but the ring, 
You would abate the strength of your displeasure. 

Portia. If you had known the virtue of the ring, 
Or half her worthiness that gave the ring, 
Or your own honor to contain the ring, 
You would not then have parted with the ring. 
What man is there so much unreasonable, 
If you had pleas'd to have defended it 
With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty 
To urge the thing held as a ceremony ? 1 
Nerissa teaches me what to believe : 
I'll die for't but some woman had the ring. 

Bassanio. No, by my honor, madam, by my soul, 
No woman had it, but a civil doctor,. 2 
Which did refuse three thousands ducats of me 
And begg'd the ring ; the which I did deny him 
And suffer' d him to go displeas'd away ; 
Even he that did uphold the very life 
Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady ? 
I was enforc'd to send it after him ; 
I was beset with shame and courtesy ; 3 

1 This word is here given to the thing consecrated by a ceremony. 

2 " Civil doctor," i.e., a doctor of civil law. 

3 " Shame and courtesy," i.e., shame at being thought ungrateful, and a 
sense of what courtesy required. 



102 SHAKESPEARE. [act v. 

My honor would not let ingratitude 

So much besmear it. Pardon me, good lady ; 

For, by these blessed candles of the night, 

Had you been there, I think you would have begg'd 

The ring of me to give the worthy doctor. 

Portia. Let not that doctor e'er come near my house : 
Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd, 
And that which you did swear to keep for me, 
I will become as liberal as you : 
I'll not deny him anything I have. 

Nerissa. Nor I his clerk ; therefore be well advis'd 
How you do leave me to mine own protection. 

Antonio. I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels. 

Portia. Sir, grieve not you ; you are welcome notwithstanding. 

Bassanio. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong : 
And, in the hearing of these many friends, 
I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes, 
Wherein I see myself — 

Portia. Mark you but that ! 

In both my eyes he doubly sees himself ; 
In each eye, one : swear by your double self, 
And there's an oath of credit. 

Bassanio. Nay, but hear me : 

Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear 
I never more will break an oath with thee. 

Antonio. I once did lend my body for his wealth ; 
Which, but for him that had your husband's ring, 
Had quite miscarried : I dare be bound again, 
My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord 
Will never more break faith advisedly. 

Portia. Then you shall be his surety. Give him this 
And bid him keep it better than the other. 

Antonio. Here, Lord Bassanio ; swear to keep this ring. 

Bassanio. By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor ! 

Portia. I had it of him. You are all amaz'd : 



scene i.] THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 103 

Here is.a letter ; read it at your leisure ; 

It comes from Padua, from Bellario : 

There you shall find that Portia was the doctor, 

Nerissa there her clerk : Lorenzo here 

Shall witness I set forth as soon as you 

And even but now return'd ; I have not yet 

Enter'd my house. Antonio, you are welcome ; 

And I have better news in store for you 

Than you expect : unseal this letter soon ; 

There you shall find three of your argosies 

Are richly come to harbor suddenly : 

You shall not know by what strange accident 

I chanced on this letter. 

Antonio. I am dumb. 

Bassanio. Were you the doctor and I knew you not ? 

Antonio. Sweet lady, you have given me life and living ; 
For here I read for certain that my ships 
Are safely come to road. 1 

Portia. How now, Lorenzo ! 

My clerk hath some good comforts too for you. 

Nerissa. Ay, and I'll give them him without a fee. 
There do I give to you and Jessica, 
From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift, 
After his death, of all he dies possess'd of. 

Lorenzo. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way 
Of starved people. 

Portia. It is almost -morning, 

And yet I am sure you are not satisfied 
Of these events at full. Let us go in ; 
And charge us there upon inter'gatories, 
And we will answer all things faithfully. [Exeunt. 

1 Port. 



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SHAKESPEARE'S JULIUS C/ESAR. 
SHAKESPEARE'S TWELFTH NIGHT. 
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